. Little folks in Busy-land . 112. A WONDERFUL WEAVER Theres a wonderful weaver High up in the air,And he weaves a white mantle For cold earth to the wind for his shuttle, The cloud for his loom,How he weaves, how he weaves, In the light, in the gloom ! But this wonderful weaver Grows weary at last,And the shuttle lies idle That once flew so the sun peeps abroad On the work that is done,And he smiles: Ill unravel It all, just for fun. — GEO. COOPER.

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