[Illustration: Hug wite close round her neck]




THE LITTLE COAT

Here's his ragged "roundabout";
Turn the pockets inside out:
See; his pen-knife, lost to use,
Rusted shut with apple-juice;
Here, with marbles, top and string,
Is his deadly "devil-sling,"
With its rubber, limp at last
As the sparrows of the past!
Beeswax--buckles--leather straps--
Bullets, and a box of caps,--
Not a thing of all, I guess,
But betrays some waywardness--
E'en these tickets, blue and red,
For the Bible-verses said--
Such as this his mem'ry kept--
"Jesus wept."

[Illustration: The Little Coat]

Here's a fishing hook-and-line,
Tangled up with wire and twine,
And dead angle-worms, and some