THE PAINTER'S SCARE-CROW.

Miss Arabella Vandyke Brown Had a small studio in the town, Where, all the winter, blithe and gay, She drew and painted day by day. She envied not the rich. Her art And work made sunshine in her heart. Upon her canvas, many a scene Of summers past, in golden green Was wrought again. The snow and rain Pelted upon her window-pane; But she within her cozy room With joyous toil dispelled the gloom; And, sometimes, in an undertone, Sang to herself there, all alone. But, when the spring and summer came, Her studio grew so dull and tame She sought the rural solitudes Of winding streams and shady woods; For painters' works contract a taint Unless from Nature's self they paint. So out Miss Arabella went, To sketch from Nature fully bent. It was a lovely summer's day; A lovely scene before her lay; Her folding-stool and box she took, And, seated in a quiet nook, Her white umbrella o'er her head (Like a tall giant mushroom spread), Began to paint; when, lo! a noise She heard. A troop of idle boys Came flocking round her, rough and rude. Some o'er her shoulders leaned; some stood In front of her, and cried: "Paint me!— My picter I should like to see." Some laughed, some shouted. "What a set!" Said Arabella, in a pet: "And no policeman within hail To send these ruffian imps to jail." In fine, she could not work, so went Straight homeward in great discontent. She had no brother to defend her, Nor country cousin to attend her. A plan occurred to her next day To keep these idle scamps away. An easel by her side she placed, And over it she threw in haste A hat and cloak:—and there it stood In bold and threatening attitude. The rabble at a distance spied The scare-crow standing by her side; And, thinking 't was the town-police, They left Miss A.V. Brown in peace. MORAL. Sometimes, an innocent pretense Is the best means of self-defense, And if a scare-crow keeps the peace, What need to summon the police?