Page 267 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...

So good people, when they dies,
Fields themselves well fixed forever—
J oe, my boy, wot ails yer eyes ?

Thought they looked el little; sing’ler.
Oh, no! Don’t you have no fear;
Heaven was made fur such its you is—■
Joe, wot ntakes you look so queer?
Here— wake up ! Oh, don't look that way!
Joe ! My boy ! Hold up yer head !
Here’s yer flowers— you dropped ’em, Joey 1
Oh, my God, can Joe be deadt
D avid I-., Pkoiidfit.

“ KISS ME, MAMMA.”
[The unutterable sadness of this selection ■calls for the strangest expression of grief,]
a AH E child was so .sensitive, so like that little shrinking plant that
curls at a breath, and shuts its heart from the light!
The only beauties she possesserl were an exceedingly transparent
skin, and the most mournful, large blue eyes,
I h.id been trained by a very stern, strict, conscientious mother, but
I was a hardy plant, reboending after every shock. Misfortune could
not daunt, though discipline trained me, I fancied, alas-! that I must
go through the same routine with this delicate creature; so one day
when fthe had displeased me exceedingly by repeating an offense, I
was determined to punish her severely. J was very serious all day,
and upon sending her to her little coueh, 1 .said;
“ Now, my daughter, to punish you, and show you how very
naughty you have been, I shall not kis^ you to-night.”
She stood looking at me, astonishment personified, with her mourn­
ful eyes wide open— I supposed she had forgotten her misconduct till
then, and I left her with big tears dropping down her cheeks and her
little red lips quivering.
Presently I was sent for, "O h, mamma you will kiss me; I can't