Rainbow at night Is the sailor's delight; Rainbow at morning, Sailors, take warning.

Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; February has twenty-eight alone, All the rest have thirty-one, Excepting leap-year, that's the time When February's days are twenty-nine.

For every ill beneath the sun There is a cure or there is none; If there be one, try to find it; If there be none, never mind it.

They that wash on Monday Have all the week to dry; They that wash on Tuesday Are not so much awry; They that wash on Wednesday Are not so much to blame; They that wash on Thursday Wash for very shame; They that wash on Friday Wash because of need; And they that wash on Sat.u.r.day, Oh, they are lazy indeed!

Go to bed first, A golden purse;

Go to bed second, A golden pheasant;

Go to bed third, A golden bird.

If you sneeze on Monday, you sneeze for danger; Sneeze on a Tuesday, kiss a stranger; Sneeze on a Wednesday, sneeze for a letter; Sneeze on a Thursday, something better; Sneeze on a Friday, sneeze for sorrow; Sneeze on a Sat.u.r.day, joy to-morrow.

When the wind is in the east, 'Tis good for neither man nor beast; When the wind is in the north, The skilful fisher goes not forth;

When the wind is in the south, It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth; When the wind is in the west, Then 'tis at the very best.

Hearts, like doors, will ope with ease To very, very little keys, And don't forget that two of these, Are "I thank you" and "If you please."

If wishes were horses, Beggars would ride; If turnips were watches, I'd wear one by my side.

Cross-patch, Draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin; Take a cup, And drink it up, Then call your neighbors in.

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; For want of the shoe, the horse was lost; For want of the horse, the rider was lost; For want of the rider, the battle was lost; For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost; And all from the want of a horseshoe nail.

Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Sat.u.r.day's child works hard for its living, But the child that is born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind, Went round about the house to find A c.h.i.n.k to set her foot in; She tried the keyhole in the door, She tried the crevice in the floor, And drove the chimney soot in.

And then one night when it was dark, She blew up such a tiny spark That all the town was bothered; From it she raised such flame and smoke That many in great terror woke, And many more were smothered.

And thus when once, my little dears, A whisper reaches itching ears-- The same will come, you'll find: Take my advice, restrain the tongue, Remember what old nurse has sung Of busy Lady Wind.

_PART II_

LITTLE PRINCE AND PRINCESS

I

THE PALACE PLAYTIME

_Follow Me!_

Children go To and fro, In a merry, pretty row, Footsteps light, Faces bright; 'Tis a happy sight, Swiftly turning round and round, Never look upon the ground; Follow me, Full of glee, Singing merrily.

Work is done, Play's begun; Now we have our laugh and fun; Happy days, Pretty plays, And no naughty ways.

Holding fast each other's hand, We're a happy little band; Follow me, Full of glee, Singing merrily.

Birds are free; So are we; And we live as happily.

Work we do, Study too, For we learn "Twice two"; Then we laugh, and dance, and sing, Gay as larks upon the wing; Follow me, Full of glee, Singing merrily.

Eliza Lee Follen.

_The Baby's Birthday_

Come, Charles, blow the trumpet, And George, beat the drum, For this is the baby's birthday!

Little Annie shall sing, And Jemmy shall dance, And father the jews-harp will play.

Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

Come toss up the ball, And spin the hum top; We'll have a grand frolic to-day; Let's make some soap bubbles, And blow them up high, And see what the baby will say.

Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

We'll play the grand Mufti; Let's all make a ring; The tallest the Mufti shall play; You must look in his face, And see what he does, And mind what the Mufti shall say.

Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

And now we'll play soldiers; All hold up your heads!

Don't you know 'tis the baby's birthday?

You must turn out your toes, And toss your feet high; There! this, boys and girls, is the way.

Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

Eliza Lee Follen.

_Counting Out_

Intery, mintery, cutery-corn, Apple seed and apple thorn; Wire, brier, limber-lock, Five geese in a flock, Sit and sing by a spring, O-u-t, and in again.