Let some one hold the book, and ask one of the questions. The answers being all
numbered, the girl or boy who is questioned chooses a number, and the person
who holds the book reads the answer to which that number belongs, aloud.
WHEN Pleasure gilds thy passing hours,
And Hope enwreaths her fairy flowers,
And Love appears with playful hand
There's not a little girl I meet,
Not even Sue or Annie,
That seems to me more fair and sweet
Than my younger neighbor, Fanny.
MY garden, fresh and beautiful! — the spell of frost is o'er,
And earth sends out its varied leaves, a rich and lavish store;
MY piazza, my piazza! some boast their lordly halls,
Where soften'd gleams of curtain'd light on golden treasure falls,
WHY should old age escape unnoticed here,
That sacred era to reflection dear?
That peaceful shore where passion dies away,
BIRD of the south! is this a scene to waken
Thy native notes in thrilling, gushing tone?
Thy woodland nest of love is all forsaken
THE gay saloon was thronged with grace and beauty,
While astral rays shone out on lovely eyes,
And lovely eyes look'd forth a clearer beam.