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THE CHILD IN THE GLASS.

By Mary Sigsbee Kerr.

The child who lives in the looking-glass Is always waiting to see me pass; She never seems to run and play, But watches there for me all day: For every time I go and see,
I find her peeping round at me.One day when I was cross and cried,She stretched her mouth so very wide,I had to laugh—then she did, too;She likes to do just what I do.

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