SPINNING-WHEEL SONG.

BY MISS MITFORD.


Fair Janet sits beside her wheel;
No maiden better knew
To pile upon the circling reel
An even thread and true;
But since for Rob she 'gan to pine,
She twists her flax in vain;
'Tis now too coarse,--and now too fine,--
And now--'tis snapt in twain!

Robin, a bachelor profest,
At love and lovers laughs,
And o'er the bowl with reckless jest,
His pretty spinster quaffs;
Then, whilst all sobbing, Janet cries
"She scorns the scornful swain!"
With angry haste her wheel she plies,
And--snaps the thread again!


[The Publishers have obligingly enabled us to present the reader with
three of the _smartest_ Cuts. The fun of these Cuts requires neither
note nor comment.

Altogether, we may recommend the _Offering_ as a really comic
companion.]