BABY IN HER HIGH CHAIR.

Here I am all ready: here's my little plate Wants some 'tato on it: papa, you'll be late. Here's the milk a-waiting in my silver cup; I'm so hungry! will somebody please to push me up. Didn't see me, did you, scrambling up my chair? Got up all alone too; would you think I'd dare? Got my clothes all twisted; 'fraid I mussed my curls: What did papa say about frowsy-headed girls?

Dear, I have such troubles! people are so slow! Don't they want some supper, I should like to know? There's a fly gone swimming in my silver cup; And I can't quite reach him, 'cause I'm not pushed up. Here's my mamma coming; here come Sue and Fred; Now there goes the ding-dong, just as if it said, "Little folks and big folks, time to come and sup!" Thank you, papa, thank you, for pushing Bessie up.