Part 3 (1/2)

But a steady old chap Is John S. Crow, And for months has stood at his post; For corn you know Takes time to grow, And 'tis long between seed and roast.

And it had to be watched And guarded with care From the time it was put in the ground, For over there, And everywhere, Sad thieves were waiting around.

Sad thieves in black, A cowardly set, Who waited for John to be gone, That they might get A chance to upset The plans of the planter of corn.

They were no kin to John, Though they bore his name And belonged to the family Crow; He'd scorn to claim Any part of the fame That is theirs wherever you go.

So he has stuck to the field And watched the corn, And been watched by the crows from the hill; Till at length they're gone, And so is the corn-- They away, and it to the mill.

Now the work is done, And it's time for play, For which John is glad I know; For though made of hay, If he could he would say, ”It's stupid to be a scarecrow.”

But though it is stupid, And though it is slow, To fill such an humble position; To be a _good_ scarecrow Is better I know Than to scorn a lowly condition.

SILVER LOCKS AND THE BEARS.

Versified by Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.

Silver Locks was a little girl, Lovely and good; She strayed out one day And got lost in the wood, And was lonely and sad, Till she came where there stood The house which belonged to the Bears.

She pulled the latch string, And the door opened wide; She peeped softly first, And at last stepped inside; So tired her little feet Were that she cried, And so hungry she, sobbed to herself.

She did not know Whether to stay or to go; But there were three chairs Standing all in a row, And there were three bowls Full of milk white as snow, And there were three beds by the wall.

But the Father Bear's chair Was too hard to sit in it, And the Mother Bear's chair Was too hard to sit in it; But the Baby Bear's chair Was so soft in a minute She had broken it all into pieces.

And the Father Bear's milk Was too sour to drink, And the Mother Bear's milk Was too sour to drink; But the Baby Bear's milk Was so sweet, only think, When she tasted she drank it all up.

And the Father Bear's bed Was as hard as a stone, And the Mother Bear's bed Was as hard as a stone; But the Baby Bear's bed Was so soft she lay down, And before she could wink was asleep.

By and by came the scratch Of old Father Bear's claw, And the fumbling knock Of old Mother Bear's paw, And the latch string flew up, And the Baby Bear saw That a stranger had surely been there.

Then Father Bear cried, ”Who's been sitting in my chair?”

And Mother Bear cried, ”Who's been sitting in _my_ chair?”

And Baby Bear smiled, ”Who's been sitting in my chair, And broken it all into pieces?”

Then Father Bear growled, ”Who's been tasting of my milk?”

And Mother Bear growled, ”Who's been tasting of _my_ milk?”

And Baby Bear wondered, ”Who's tasted of my milk, And tasting has drank it all up?”

And Father Bear roared, ”Who's been lying on my bed?”

And Mother Bear roared, ”Who's been lying on _my_ bed?”

And Baby Bear laughed, ”Who's been lying on my bed?

O, here she is, fast asleep!”

The savage old Father Bear cried, ”Let us eat her!”

The savage old Mother Bear cried, ”Let us eat her!”