Part 11 (1/1)

There are partners enough and to spare, When Charlotte is playing croquet.

HANNAH G. FERNALD.

THE SCARECROW

He doesn't wander up and down And hoa.r.s.ely call all day, ”O' clo'! O' clo'!” This old-clothes man Has not a word to say.

He stands so stiff among the corn, His one stiff arm stuck out, And points a musket at the crows That circle all about.

He doesn't tramp the dusty streets, Nor travel, ankle-deep, Through mush and slush, but quiet stands Where baby corn-cobs sleep.

He's such a funny old-clothes man!

I wonder if it's hard To stand amid the growing corn All summer long on guard.