NURSERY BALLADS.

A PERILOUS SPOT.

It's a dangerous place sometimes for those who don't know my nursery floor, And I'd advise those who are timid at all to keep well outside the door; There are lions at large, and bears and cows, and animals wild like that Parading around most all the time, and a great big plooshy cat. My Pa came into that room one day to see who was blowing the horn, And before he looked where he walked he stepped on top of a unicorn; And the fast express from old Bureauville—as fast as the wind it goes— Came whistling over the carpet track, and ran right over his toes. And when he jumped back to get out of the way a big man-of-war sailed by, And clipped the end of his heel, it did, and a cannon-ball hit his eye, A cannon-ball shot by General Zinc bombarding a Brownie band, That peeped from the edge of the old soap-dish we keep on the oak wash-stand. And once in the dark he tripped on the ark, and fell on the Ferris wheel, And bumped his head on a wagon red, and broke off my steam-launch keel; And when he got up to leave the room, the very first thing he knew He got in the midst of some lead Arabs, and made a great hullaballoo. And that's why I say it's a dangerous place for those who've not been there before, With lions and boats and bears and carts strewn everywhere over the floor, And unless I'm home when you visit me, there isn't a bit of a doubt, Instead of a-venturing in there alone, you'd better by far keep out. Carlyle Smith.