Reely, miss, you must excoose me," says the

burglar, with a jerk ;

"Dooty calls, and time is pressing - I must set about my work!"

(This gruffly.)

"Is 'oo work to bweak in houses? Nana told me so, I'm sure!

Will 'oo twy if 'oo can manage to bweak in my dolls'-house door?

"I tan never det it undone, so my dollies tan't det out;

They don't like the fwont to open every time they'd walk about!

Twy- and, if 'oo does it nicely, when I'm thent up-thairs to theep,

I will bwing 'oo up thome goodies, which thall be for 'oo to keep!"

(Pause, then emotional.)

Off the little angel flutters, but the burglar

wipes his brow;

He is wholly unaccustomed to a kindly greet

ing now!

Never with a smile of welcome has he seen

his entrance met !

(Mournfully.)

Nobody (except the policeman) ever wanted him as yet!

(Bitterly.)

All forgotten are the jewels, once the purpose of his "job,"

As he sinks upon the door-mat with a deep and choking sob!

Then, the infant's plea recalling, seeks the nursery above,

Looking for the Liliputian crib he is to crack for love!

(He generally does it for money, you know.)

In the corner stands the dolls'-house, gayly painted green and red;

(Coloring again here.)

And the door declines to open

child had said!

even as the

Out come centre-bit and jemmy, all his implements are plied;

Never has he burgled better, as he feels with honest pride!

Deftly now the task's accomplished - for the door will open well,

When a childish voice behind him breaks the silence like a bell:

"Sank 'oo, Missa Burglar, sank 'oo, and, betause 'oo's been tho nice,

Thee, I've bwought 'oo up a tartlet - gweat big gweedies eat the ice!

Papa says he wants to see 'oo. Partinthon

Tan't 'oo thtay?"-"Well, not this evenin', so, my little dear, adoo!"

(Make a picture of the next couplet; let the audience see the haunted victim of social preju

dice beguiling his flight by tender memories, as he escapes his pursuers.)

Fast he speeds across the housetops, but his bosom throbs with bliss,

For upon his rough lips linger traces of a baby's kiss!

(This line, tear-laden as it is, needs very delicate treatment to prevent the audience from understanding it in a painfully literal sense.)

(Now we come to the finale, with a highly effective contrast; don't be afraid of it.) Dreamily, on downy pillow, Baby Bella murmurs sweet;

(Smile here with a sleepy tenderness.) Burglar, tum adain an' thee me; I will dive 'oo cakes to eat!"

(That's one side; now for the other.)

In his garret, worn and weary, Burglar Bill has sunk to rest,

Clasping tenderly a damson tartlet to his burly breast!

THE CATARACT OF LODORE.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

"How does the water come down at Lodore?" My little boy asked me thus, once on a time; And, moreover, he tasked me to tell him in

rhyme.

Anon at the word, there first came one daugh

ter,

And then came another, to second and third The request of their brother, and to hear how

the water

Comes down to Lodore, with its rush and its

roar,

As many a time they had seen it before.

So I told them in rhyme, for of rhymes I had

store;