So in the church-yard she was laid;

And all the summer dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side."

"How many are you then," said I,

"If they two are in Heaven?"

The little Maiden did reply,

"O Master! we are seven."

"But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in Heaven!"

"Twas throwing words away: for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, "Nay, we are seven!"

X.

ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS,

Showing how the Practice of Lying may be taught.

I HAVE a Boy of five years old;

His face is fair and fresh to see;

His limbs are cast in beauty's mould,

And dearly he loves me.

One morn we strolled on our dry walk,

Our quiet home all full in view,

And held such intermitted talk

As we are wont to do.

My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
I thought of Kilve's delightful shore,
Our pleasant home, when Spring began,
A long, long year before.

A day it was when I could bear
To think-and think-and think again;
With so much happiness to spare,
I could not feel a pain.

My Boy was by my side, so slim
And graceful in his rustic dress!

And oftentimes I talked to him,
In very idleness.

The young lambs ran a pretty race;
The morning sun shone bright and warm;
"Kilve," said I, " was a pleasant place;
And so is Liswyn farm.

My little Boy, which like you more,"
I said, and took him by the arm-
"Our home by Kilve's delightful shore,
Or here at Liswyn farm?

And tell me, had you rather be,"

I said, and held him by the arm,

"At Kilve's smooth shore by the green sea, Or here at Liswyn farm?"

In careless mood he looked at me,
While still I held him by the arm,
And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be
Than here at Liswyn farm."

"Now, little Edward, say why so;
My little Edward, tell me why."-
"I cannot tell, I do not know.”—
"Why, this is strange," said I.

"For, here are woods, and green-hills warm:

There surely must some reason be

Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm

For Kilve by the green sea."

At this, my Boy hung down his head,

He blushed with shame, nor made reply;

And five times to the Child I said,

His head he raised-there was in sight,

It caught his eye, he saw it plain-
Upon the house-top, glittering bright,
A broad and gilded Vane.

Then did the boy his tongue unlock; And thus to me he made reply:

"At Kilve there was no weather-cock, And that's the reason why."

O dearest, dearest Boy! my heart For better lore would seldom yearn, Could I but teach the hundredth part Of what from thee I learn.