"Swing, Swong!

The days are long!

Up hill, and down dale;

Butter is made in every vale."

Your day will come, though it arrive but

slowly;

There 's cream in all life, set however

lowly;

And if, as Goose philosophy, you doubt

it,

Hear what the little hen found out about

it:—

"Kroo! kroo! I've cramp in my legs,

Sitting so long atop of my eggs;

Never a minute for rest to snatch;

I wonder when they are going to hatch!

Cluck! cluck! listen! sleep!

Down in the nest there's a stir and a

peep.

Everything comes to its luck some day;

I've got chickens! What will folks say?"