PULL THE WEEDS.

Pull the weeds, my little maid, That's good work to do; Better drop the ugly spade,— It's too big for you. In the onion bed, you see, Weeds with onions don't agree; Pull the weeds and set them free, Onions then will grow.

Do you want to help me, dear,

Very, very much?

Careful walk along right here,

And you must not touch;

You must learn to keep the row;

Pull the weeds where'er they grow;

Soon you'll learn to use the hoe,

Rake, and spade, and such.

M. E. McKEE.