I Didn't Think

I Know a naughty little elf

Who never can behave himself;

He beats his drum when grandma's cap

Is nodding for a cozy nap,

And leaves his ball upon the floor

For Uncle James to stumble o'er.

'Twas he who tried to scratch his name

Upon a painted picture frame;

'Twas he who left the gate untied,

Which brindle cow pushed open wide;

'Twas he who nibbled Lucy's cake

She took such pains to mix and bake;

And, though we blamed the tricksy mice,

'Twas he who cracked its fluted ice.

This little elf upset the milk;

He tangled Auntie's broidery silk;

He went to school with muddy shoes,

Though credits very sure to lose;

Against his mother's gentle wish

He took the sugar from the dish;

He lost the pen, and spilled the ink;

This elf we call "I didn't think."

Our house would be a nicer place

If he would never show his face;,

We hope and hope some sunny day

The naughty elf will run away,

for oft he makes our spirits sink—

This troublesome "I didn't think."

—MARGARET L. SANGSTER.

My little children, let us not love in word, neither with the tongue; but in deed and truth.

—1 John iii. 18.