A baby's boot, nnd a skcin of wool, Faded and Hoi led, and sott ; üdd thinga, you say, and 110 doubt you'ro right, Round a seaman's nock tliis stormy uight, Up in the yards aloft. Most likely it'a folly, but mate, look here : When tirst I went to s;a, A woman stood on the far-off strand, With a weddiog-ring on hor small sol! hand Which olung so closely to me. Mv wife, God bless her ! The day betore She sat beaide my loot ; And the aunlight kissed lier yellow hair, And the dainty fingers, deit mid fair Knitted 1 baby's boot. The voyage was over; I carne ashore: What, think you, found I thero ? A grave the daisies had sprinklod white A cottage empty, and dark as night, And tilia bcside the chair. The little boot, 'twas uuilnishecl still The tangled skoin lay near; But the knitter liad gone away to rest, With the babo asleop on her ijuiet breast, Down in the churchvard drear. JMiít)igon Jlrps.