ae,

They were found in‘a week by some men from the farms,
Closely nestled together in each other’s arms.

* * * *

The wicked old uncle, I since have heard said,

Lived a terrible life of remorse, grief, and dread,

For he ever'was hearing their innocent cries,

And beheld their dead forms when he dared close his eyes.
All his ill-gotten gold was bequeathed when he died

To a home for poor destitute babes to provide.

 

Facky Tweazles.

ITTLE Jacky Tweazles’ been and caught the measles,
Playing with the Brownses—mother told him not.
Nasty draughts and powder (though he cry still louder),
Instead of Christmas pudding, he must take a lot.