LITTLE ONES AT HOME.

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‘It always makes me happy,
Whene’er I hear its tone ;
I know it is the voice of love,
From a heart that is my own.

My mother, my dear mother,
O may I never be
Unkind or disobedient,
In any way, to thee.

PURE AIR.

 

Throw open the window, and fasten it there,
Fling the curtain aside, and the blind,

And give a free entrance to heaven’s pure air ;
'T is the life and the health of mankind.

Are you fond of coughs, colds, dyspepsia, and
rheums,
Of headaches, and fevers, and chills?
Of bitters, hot drops, and medicine fumes,
And bleeding, and blisters, and pills?

Then be sure when you sleep that all air is
shut out ;
Place, too, a warm brick at your feet,
Put a bandage of flannel your neck quite about,
And cover your head with a sheet.