MARY HOWITT.

HE merry Titmouse is a comical fellow;
He weareth a plumage of purple and yellow,
Barred over with black, and with white in-
terlaced ;-

Depend on't, the Titmouse has excellent taste.

And he, like his betters of noble old blood,

Keeps up, with great spirit, a family feud;

A feud with the owl;-and why? would you know,An old, by-gone quarrel of ages ago :—

Perhaps in the Ark might be taken offence,—

But I know not, indeed, of the where and the whence ;Only this is quite true,-let them meet as they may, Having quarrelled long since, they would quarrel to-day.

But we'll leave them to settle this ancient affair,
And now look at his nest, made with exquisite care,
Of lichen, and moss, and the soft downy feather,
And the web of the spider to keep it together.