Page 418 - 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 ...
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know  what  ye  want  to  say,”  she  hissed;  “ but  it’s  a blessed
                           good  thing for you  that  I  did  come!   If  ye'd  come  alone,  ye'd  have
                           been  murdered  and  gashed  and  scalped,  and  sunk  into  the  river  afore
                           now !"
                             “ Pooh ! "
                             “ Yes,  pooh,  f  you  want to. 1_v.it  I  know  !  ”
                             He  leaned  back;  she settled  herself  anew;  and  by  and  by—
                             He  ilodded— she  nodded.    And  in  sleep  their  gray heads  touched j
                           and  his  arm found  its  way  along  the  back  of  the  seat,  arid  his  hand
                           rested  on  her shoulder.— M.  Q uad.




                                          HOW  FATHER  CARVES  THE  DUCK.
                                           W      E  all  look  on  with anxious  eyes,
                                                    When  father carvcs the duck,
                                                  And mother at most always sighs,
                                              When fa tiler carves the  duck.
                                           Then  all  of  us prepare to rise
                                           And hold  our bibs before  our eyes
                                           And  be prepared for some surprise,
                                              When father carvcs  the  duck.


                                           He braccs  up  and  grabs a fork,
                                              Whene’er he  carves a duck.
                                           And  won’t allow  a  Soul  to  talk,
                                              Until  he carves  I he  duck.
                                           The fork  is  jabbed  into the sides,
                                           Across the breast the knife he slides,
                                           While  every careful person  hides
                                              From living chips  of duck.


                                           The p)alter1 s  always  sure to  slip,
                                              When father  carves  the  di.ick.
                                           And  how it  makes  the  dishes  skip!
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