That's the way for Billy and me.

Why the boys should drive away,
Little maidens from their play,
Or love to banter and fight so well,
That's the thing I never could tell.

But this I know, I love to play
In the meadow, among the hay--
Up the water, and o'er the lea,
That's the way for Billy and me.




THE CALIPH AND THE POET



Once upon a time there was a famous Arab [Footnote: Ar'ab.] whose name
was Al Mansur. He was the ruler of all the Arabs, and was therefore
called the caliph. [Footnote: Caliph (_pronounced_ ka'lif).]

Al Mansur loved poetry and was fond of hearing poets repeat their own
verses. Sometimes, if a poem was very pleasing, he gave the poet a
prize. One day a poet whose name was Thalibi [Footnote: Thal i'bi.]
came to the caliph and recited a long poem. When he had finished, he
bowed, and waited, hoping that he would be rewarded.

"Which would you rather have" asked the caliph, "three hundred pieces