Volume 159 — A BALLAD OF THE EARLY WORM.
Reading edition
The gentle zephyr lightly blows Across the dewy lawn, And sleepily the rooster crows, "Beloved, it is dawn." The little worms in bed below Can hear their father wince, While, up above, a feathered foe Is busy making mince. In vain they seize his slippery tail And try to pull him back; It makes their little cheeks turn pale To hear his waistband crack. They draw him down and crowd around; Their tears bespeak their love; For part of him is underground And part has gone above. But not for long does sorrow seize The subterranean mind, For father grows another piece In front or else behind. And now he's up before the dawn, Long ere the world has stirred, And eats his breakfast on the lawn Before the early bird.
When the Young Lead the Young.
"Lady Nurse or Nursery Governess (young) wanted for post near Ventnor, I.W., for boy 2½ years. Experience, similar age, and happy disposition essential."—Weekly Paper.
"Oxford, Tuesday.
The Royal Commission on Oxford and Cambridge Universities began its Oxford session this afternoon in the Extermination Schools."—Daily Paper.
Absit omen!