THE CAT-TAIL ARROW

BY CLARA DOTY BATES


Little Sammie made a bow,
Well indeed he loved to whittle,
Shaped it like the half of O--
How he could I scarcely know,
For his fingers were so little.
As he whittled came a sigh:
"If I only had an arrow;
Something light enough to fly
To the tree-tops or the sky!
Then I'd have such fun tomorrow."

Then he thought of all the slim
Things that grow--the hazel bushes,
Willow branches, poplars trim--
And yet nothing suited him
Till he chanced to think of rushes.
He knew well a quiet pool
Where he always paused a minute
On his way to district school,
Just to see the waters cool
And his own bright face within it.