TOO MUCH BIRTHDAY.

See poor little Jamie in mamma's low chair, With the roses all gone from his cheeks so fair. Too languid to look At the picture-book; Too tired even, I think, to care For the wonderful story kind nurse would tell To the dear little boy who has not been well. Why did the roses so suddenly go, And leave those cheeks as white as the snow? Ah, Jamie knows of a little boy Who had far too much of frolic and joy On a certain day, So merry and gay; A birthday party it was, they say. But Jamie will soon be well again, Free from weakness, and free from pain. The dimples will gather in chin and cheek, And mischief again in his eyes will speak; No more he'll care To sit in a chair, But all over the house for fun will seek.