r 0 li T It Y . THE LITTLE BLACK BOT. hfy mother bon , me in the southern wild,
... the heat to bens The cloud will vanish. we shall hear His voice Saying, Tome out from the grove, my limeade ire And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.' Thus did nray, and sae, thus I my t o little English boy : When I front bbel, and he front cloud ...