A SPRING SHOW-ER.

"My gyp-sy hat For my lit-tle head— I can't wait a min-ute!" Gold Locks said. Look out, lit-tle girl, Through the win-dow pane; You'll have to wait Un-til af-ter the rain. With a flood like this Straight from the sky, Not ev-en um-brel-las Could keep you dry. But there's wa-ter e-nough, My lit-tle lass, Stream-ing and drip-ping Out-side the glass. With-out your tears To help the wet! Have you thought to look For a rain-bow yet? Ah, see through the clouds A glimpse of the sun! And hark to the thrush-es— The rain is done.