Listen, then, come;
Strike killing blows; hew to the line;
Make it a felony even to sign
A petition to license, you would do it, I ween,
If that were your son, and he only sixteen,
Only sixteen.
* * * * *
THE RETORT.
Old Birch, who taught the village school,
Wedded a maid of homespun habit;
He was stubborn as a mule,
And she was playful as a rabbit.
Poor Kate had scarce become a wife
Before her husband sought to make her
The pink of country polished life,
And prim and formal--as a Quaker.
One day the tutor went abroad,
And simple Katie sadly missed him;
When he returned, behind her lord
She slyly stole, and fondly kissed him.
The husband's anger rose, and red
And white his face alternate grew:
"Less freedom, ma'am!" Kate sighed and said
"O, dear, I didn't know 'twas you."
* * * * *
"LITTLE BENNIE."
A CHRISTMAS STORY.
I had told him, Christmas morning,
As he sat upon my knee,
Holding fast his little stockings,
Stuffed as full as full can be,
And attentive listening to me
With a face demure and mild,
That old Santa Claus, who filled them,
Did not love a naughty child.
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