IN THE BARN.

Whenever there's a rainy day They send us to the barn to play From after lunch till supper-time. And there they let us run and climb And tumble in the hay and straw— Such funny tricks you never saw! We overhaul the piles of junk, We open every battered trunk, And every corner we explore As if we'd never searched before; We play at burglars or at thieves, And crawl along beneath the eaves, Or else we are a garrison Besieged, outnumbered ten to one, And from the windows we repel The foe that hides beyond the well. And sometimes, if there's no one by (If John has gone down to the sty Or to the pasture for the cow, Or—if John's absent, anyhow), We take old Dobbin from the stall— Which we ought never do at all— And play at circus, while the horse Plods around a ring, of course, With one of us upon his back; Another makes the long whip crack; A third—the lucky one—is clown; And all the girls have to sit down On seats that have been put about, And they must clap their hands and shout. Oh, circus is the greatest fun! When John goes out, it's always done. Albert Lee.