They have not been behaving well.

For ere they took a single bite, They all began to scold and fight.

The little boy whose name was Ned, He wanted jelly on his bread; The little boy whose name was Sam, He vowed he would have damson jam; The little boy whose name was Phil Said, "I'll have honey! _Yes_--I--WILL!!"

BUT--

The little boy whose name was Paul, While they were quarrelling, ate it all.

JUMBO JEE.

There were some kings, in number three, Who built the tower of Jumbo Jee.

They built it up to a monstrous height, At eleven o'clock on a Thursday night.

They built it up for forty miles, With mutual bows and pleasing smiles; And then they sat on the edge to rest, And partook of lunch with a cheerful zest.

And first they ate of the porkly pie, And wondered why they had built so high; And next they drank of the ginger wine, Which gave their noses a regal shine.

They drank to the health of Jumbo Jee, Until they could neither hear nor see.

They drank to the health of Jumbo Land, Until they could neither walk nor stand.

They drank to the health of Jumbo Tower Until they really could drink no more; And then they sank in a blissful swoon, And flung their crowns at the rising moon.

AN INDIAN BALLAD.

Whopsy Whittlesey Whanko Whee, Howly old, growly old Indian he, Lived on the hills of the Mungo-Paws, With all his pappooses and all his squaws.

There was Wah-wah-bocky, the Blue-nosed Goose, And Ching-gach-gocky, the Capering Moose: There was Pecksy Wiggin, and Squaw-pan too, But the fairest of all was Michiky Moo.

Michiky Moo, the Savory Tart, Pride of Whittlesey Whanko's heart; Michiky Moo, the Cherokee Pie, Apple of Whittlesey Whanko's eye.

Whittlesey Whanko loved her so That the other squaws did with envy glow; And each said to the other, "Now, what shall we do To spoil the beauty of Michiky Moo?"

"We'll lure her away to the mountain top, And there her head we will neatly chop."

"We'll wile her away to the forest's heart, And shoot her down with a poisoned dart."

"We'll lead her away to the river-side, And there she shall be the Manito's bride."

"Oh! one of these things we will surely do, And we'll spoil the beauty of Michiky Moo."

"Michiky Moo, thou Cherokee Pie, Away with me to the mountain high!"

"Nay, my sister, I will not roam.

I'm safer and happier here at home."

"Michiky Moo, thou Savory Tart, Away with me to the forest's heart!"

"Nay! my sister, I will not go; I fear the dart of some hidden foe."

"Michiky Moo, old Whittlesey's pride, Away with me to the river-side!"

"Nay! my sister, for fear I fall!

And wouldst thou come if thou heardst me call?"

"Now choose thee, choose thee thy way of death!

For soon thou shalt draw thy latest breath!

We all have sworn that this day we'll see The last, proud Michiky Moo, of thee!"

Whittlesey Whanko, hidden near, Each and all of these words did hear.

He summoned his braves, all painted for war, And gave them in charge each guilty squaw: "Take Wah-wah-bocky, the Blue-nosed Goose; Take Ching-gach-gocky, the Capering Moose; Take Peeksy Wiggin, and Squaw-pan too, And leave me alone with my Michiky Moo.

This one away to the mountain top, And there her head ye shall neatly chop; This one away to the forest's heart, And shoot her down with a poisoned dart; This one away to the river-side, And there she shall be the Manito's bride; Away with them all, the woodlands through!

For I'll have no squaw save Michiky Moo."

Away went the braves, without question or pause, And they soon put an end to the guilty squaws.

They pleasantly smiled when the deed was done, Saying, "Ping-ko-chanky! oh! isn't it fun!"

And then they all danced the Buffalo dance, And capered about with ambiguous prance, While they drank to the health of the lovers so true, Bold Whittlesey Whanko and Michiky Moo.

THE EGG.

Oh! how shall I get it, how shall I get it,-- A nice little new-laid egg?

My grandmamma told me to run to the barn-yard, And see if just one I could beg.

"Moolly-cow, Moolly-cow, down in the meadow, Have you any eggs, I pray?"

The Moolly-cow stares as if I were crazy, And solemnly stalks away.

"Oh! Doggie, Doggie, perhaps you may have it, That nice little egg for me."

But Doggie just wags his tail and capers, And never an egg has he.

"Now, Dobbin, Dobbin, I'm sure you must have one, Hid down in your manger there."

But Dobbin lays back his ears and whinnies, With "Come and look, if you dare!"

"Piggywig, Piggywig, grunting and squealing, Are you crying 'Fresh eggs for sale'?"

No! Piggy, you're very cold and unfeeling, With that impudent quirk in your tail.

"You wise old Gobbler, you look so knowing, I'm sure you can find me an egg.

You stupid old thing! just to say 'Gobble-gobble!'

And balance yourself on one leg."

Oh! how shall I get it, how shall I get it,-- That little white egg so small?

I've asked every animal here in the barn-yard, And they won't give me any at all.

But after I'd hunted until I was tired, I found--not one egg, but ten!

And you _never_ could guess where they all were hidden,-- Right under our old speckled hen!

WOULDN'T.

She _wouldn't_ have on her naughty bib!

She _wouldn't_ get into her naughty crib!

She _wouldn't_ do this, and she _wouldn't_ do that, And she _would_ put her foot in her Sunday hat.