Aeroplanes | Page 4

it is said:
"Let's see--I should think that this milk
will procure
One hundred good eggs, or fourscore to be sure.
"Well then--stop a bit,--it must not be forgotten,
Some of these may
be broken, and some may be rotten;
But if twenty for accidents
should be detach'd,
It will leave me just sixty sound eggs to hatch'd.
"Well, sixty sound eggs--no; sound chickens, I mean;
Of these some
may die--we'll suppose seventeen--
Seventeen!--not so many--say ten
at the most,
Which will leave fifty chickens to boil or to roast.
"But then there's their barley; how much will they need?
Why they
take but one grain at a time when they feed,
So that's a mere trifle;
now then let us see,
At a fair market price, how much money there'll
be?
"Six shillings a pair--five--four--three-and-six,
To prevent all
mistakes, that low price I will fix;
Now what will that make? fifty
chickens, I said,
Fifty times three-and-sixpence--_I'll ask brother
Ned_.
"Oh! but stop--three-and-sixpence a _pair_ I must sell 'em; Well, a pair
is a couple--now then let us tell 'em;
A couple in fifty will go--(my
poor brain!)
Why just a score times, and five pair will remain.

"Twenty-five pair of fowls--now how shameful it is,
That I can't
reckon up as much money as this!
Well, there's no use in trying; so
let's give a guess;
I will say twenty pounds, and _it can't be no less_.
"Twenty pounds, I am certain, will buy me a cow,
Thirty geese, and
two turkeys--eight pigs and a sow;
Now if these turn out well, at the
end of the year,
I shall fill both my pockets with guineas 'tis clear.
"Then I'll bid that old tumble-down hovel good-bye;
My mother she'll
scold, and my sisters they'll cry:
But I won't care a crow's egg for all
they can say;
I sha'n't go to stop with such beggars as they!"
But forgetting her burden, when this she had said,
The maid
superciliously toss'd up her head
When alas! for her prospects--the
milk pail descended!
And so all her schemes for the future were
ended.
MORAL.
This moral, I think, may be safely attach'd:
Reckon not on your
chickens before they are hatch'd.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE LARK AND HER YOUNG ONES.
A lark who had her nest conceal'd,
Says Esop, in a barley field;

Began, as harvest time drew near,
The reaping of the corn to fear;

Afraid they would her nest descry,
Before her tender brood could fly.

She charged them therefore every day,
Before for food she flew
away,
To watch the farmer in her stead,
And listen well to all he
said.
It chanced one day, she scarce was gone,
Ere the farmer came and his

son.
The farmer well his field survey'd,
And sundry observations
made;
At last, "I'll tell you what," said he,
"This corn is fit to cut, I
see;
But we our neighbor's help must borrow,
So tell them we begin
to-morrow."
Just after this the lark returned,
When from her brood this news she
learned.
"Ah! dearest mother," then, said they,
"Pray, let us all
begone to-day."
"My dears," said she, "you need not fret,
I shall not be uneasy yet;

For if he waits for neighbor's aid,
The business long will be delay'd."
At dawn she left her nest once more,
And charged her young ones as
before.
At five the farmer came again,
And waited for his friends in vain,

"Well," said the man, "I fancy, son,
These _friends_ we can't depend
upon;
To-morrow early, mind you go,
And let our own _relations_
know."
Again the lark approach'd her nest,
When round her all her young
ones press'd,
And told their mother, word for word,
The fresh
intelligence they heard.
"Ah, children, be at ease," said she
"We're safe another day, I see;

For these _relations_, you will find,
Just like his _friends_, will stay
behind."
At dawn again the lark withdrew,
And did again her charge renew.
Once more the farmer early came,
And found the case was just the
same.
The day advanced, the sun was high;
But not a single help
drew nigh.
Then said the farmer, "Hark ye, son--
I see this job will
not be done,
While thus we wait for friends and neighbors;
So you
and I'll commence our labors:
To-morrow early, we'll begin


_Ourselves_, and get our harvest in."
"Now," said the lark, when this she heard,
"Our movement must not
be deferr'd;
For if the farmer and his son
Themselves begin, 'twill
soon be done."
The morrow proved the lark was right;
For all was cut and housed by
night.
MORAL.
Hence, while we wait for other's aid,
Our business needs must be
delay'd;
Which might be done with half the labor
'Twould take to
go and call a neighbor.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE
ACORN.
A philosopher, proud of his wit and his reason,
Sat him under an oak
in a hot summer season.
On the oak grew an acorn or two, it is said:

On the ground grew a pumpkin as big as his head.
Thought the sage, "What's the reason this oak is so strong
A few
acorns to bear that are scarce an inch long;
While this poor feeble
plant has a weight to sustain,
Which had much