Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 January 1876 — Our Young Folks. [ARTICLE]

Our Young Folks.

“A BOY'S QUERIES." n ■ I II Ml Pretty little Polliwog, tell me how you know When the water's getting warm in the meadows low? Do you hear the bull-frogs lau.h? Do you take the telegraph? Do yon see the naughty boys skulking to and fro? Do you hear them shout and itiggle As away from them yon wiggle ? Tell me, little Polliwig, 'cause I want to know. Little crawling Canker-worm, tell me how you •A know s • When the apple-leaves are growing ’bout an inch or so? Do you think 'tie nice to swing Hanging by a silken string? Do you want to gnaw the buds so they cannot blow? Would you cheat us little boys Ont of some of winter's Joys? Tell me, little Canker-worm, ’cause I want to know. Hungry little Hoppergrass, tell me how you know When the grain is fit to eat, out in “ Westward Ho?” Do you sit and smoke your pipe While the crops are getting ripe? Do you whet your teeth with bricks ere for them ■ ’ you go? Do those wicked farmers swear? Do they rave and tear their hair? Tell me, little Hoppergraas, 'cause I want to know Little purring Pussy Cat, tell me how you know That every little dog you meet is such a deadly foe? When calmly you sit and wink, Do you cogitate and think? Does your mother post you up, mewing soft and low? Do you ever get a whack With a bootjack on your back? Tell me, Ijf tie Pussy Cat, ’cause I want to know. Cheeky little Chanticleer, tell me how yon know Just the time at early morn to spread yourself and crow? Don't you .care the very dickens Out of all the hens and’chickens? Don’t vou make a horrid noise lor such a little beau? Do you think that by and by You’ll be made into a pie? Tell me, little Chanticleer, ’cause I want to know. Bonny little Bobolink, tell me how yoti know Where to hide yourself away when the north winds blow? Where do you all winter long Sing your funny little song? Do you seek some tropic isle where the palm trees grow? Where, O where, may you be found Wben old Santa Clans comes round? Tell me, little Bobolink, 'cause I want to know. —John. S. Adams, in Youth's Companion. ’