LITTLE TURNCOATS.

AS passed the rector of All Saints’ one day, Obsequiously an old man crossed his way, And with “Good-mornin’, sir!” his head laid bare; Then, steadying his basket with all care, He turned its cover back to show within Three sleeping kittens, saying, with a grin, “I have some fine Episcopal kittens here That you might like to buy,—they won’t come dear.” “Look here, old man!” called out a passer-by, “I see what you’re about, with half an eye! You tried to sell that lot to me last night As good, clean, Baptist kittens.” “You are right, My friend, and they were Baptist then, all three, But ’twas before their eyes were opened! See?”