POETRY.
CHRISTMAS IS COMING.
As I look from my window at dawning of day,.
On his cocoanut up in the tree A little tom-tit goes swinging away, As happy as happy can be.
The blackbirds and thrushes steal out of the brushes, As gloomy and starved as can be ; But that little tom-tit he cares not a bit, On his cocoanut up in the tree.
For he swings with the breeze on a twig in the treers, • And he peeks at his nut half the day ; And no other bird that ever I heard Could perch on that bendable spray.
But see how be scatters his food all around, In a shower of little white bits !
And the birds on the geound have all of them found A blessing in little tom-tits.
So Christmas is coming, and with it good cheer To all whom Dame Fortune has blest ; And eating and drinking might set us all thinking Of what we can do for the rest. HORACE SMITE.
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