AFTER THE SNOW STORM.

Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee, Tell me where were you When last night the white snow drifted And the north wind blew? Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee, Bonny little bird! Come anear my window, let me Whisper you a word:

If you’ll stay with me all winter, Chick-a-dee-dee-dee, Apple-cores and crumbs I’ll give you; Best of friends we’ll be; You shall sit among the branches Of the lilac tree, Sit and sing anear my window, Chick-a-dee-dee-dee.

Glad indeed I’ll be to see you; Promise me you’ll stay, Food and shelter I shall find you For the winter day; And in spring I’ll give you, dearest Chick-a-dee-dee-dee, For your nesting-place and bower, All my lilac tree! —Mary Grant O’Sheridan, in the Chicago Tribune.