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THE COTTAGE ON THE CLIFF.
~HA"I‘ a dreadful night it has
been!” said old Mrs. Sally San-
~§ derson to her daughter, who
lived with her in the little house
on the top of the clifif “I’ve scarcely
slept a wink all night, thinking of poor
7!
Robin, far, far away on the great ocean.
“You mustn’t fret, nor be sad, dear
mother,” Emma replied; “ for Robin said
inI his last letter that, with fair wind
and weather, he would be home by the
24th of May, at the latest.”
“Let me see, Emma; what day of the
month is it to-day? Why, bless me, it


THE COTTAGE ON THE CLIFF.
is the 24th! So we may expect to see
dear Robin to-day, by God’s blessing.”
Emma jumped up from her chair," and
bustled about, and put everything in the
little house in order; put an extra log
or two of wood onthe fire, and, while
their humble breakfast was preparing,
they both knelt down and prayed to
their Heavenly Father to protect and
preserve Robin from all danger, and to
bring him safely home that day.
“Ah! Emma dear, my heart feels
much lighter now,” exclaimed old Sally.
i“ With God on our side we ought never
to fear. But make haste, Emma, with
the breakfast; and while you’re making
the tea, I will look at Robin’s letter
again. I shall never grow tired of read-
ing it, the dear boy is so loving and
3


DAISIES AND BUTTERCUPS.
AISIES and Buttercups
All the field over;
Sometimes a violet
Hid in the clover.
Children are busy the
‘Whole live-long day,—'
What can be sweeter than
Flowers in May?
rsltlfi
Whisper the summer winds
Softly and low;
Tell of the blossoms that
Died long ago;


DAISIES AND BUTTERCUPS.
Babble the secret that
We never knew, ‘
Just how the chalice-cups
Measure the dew.
Globules of silver, and
Globules of gold,
Made for the children, their
Butter to hold.
Try ’neath the dainty chins,
“Do you love butter?”
This is the problem they
All strive to utter.
Gold-powdered Buttercups
Fresh with the rain,
Fairy-like drinking-cups
Dimpling the lane;


DAISIES AND BUTTERCUPS.
Weave in a garland, and,
‘While weaving, sing;
Children and flowers both
Herald the Spring.


BIRDS—NESTING.
NE of the most interesting studies
in relation to birds is the con-
struction and materials of their
saé
nests. Their ingenuity of con-
struction is such, that the mechanical
operations of masons, miners, carpet-
makers, basket-makers, weavers, and sail-
ors, are all more or less combined in
them. They vary in size, shape, and
position according to the habits and na-
ture of the birds. '
The Bank-swallow, or Sand-martin, for
instance, is a miner, for his nest is merely
a funnel-shaped hole made in the sand of
-
-


in
BIRDS—NESTING.
the sea-shore, from two to three feet deep,
with a bed of loose hay, and soft feath-
ers or down for the reception of the eggs.
The Jackdaw makes his house in holes,
too, though he generally prefers the eaves
of houses or the clefts of rocks.
The little lark, too, is a miner; but
his nest is much more inviting; and he
selects luxuriant meadows and fragrant
bowers as the locality of his little home.
“The daisied lea he loves, where tufts of grass
Luxuriant crown the ridge. There, with his mate,
He founds their lowly house of withered leaves
And coarsest spear-grass; next, the inner work
With finer and still finer fibres lays,
Rounding it curious with his speckled breast.”
‘It is ‘a Sky-lark’s nest that our little
friends have just found in the picture,
into which the youngest child is look-
ing so curiously, and to make which the
9


BIRDS—NESTING. '
J:
poor birds have taken so much time and
trouble. How cruel it is to deprive them
of their eggs, when they are of no use
to us, and yet their loss causes so much
pain and anxiety!
The Nut-hatch and other birds are
masons and plasterers, for they (build
their nests in the holes of trees; and,
if they find the holes too large, they
narrow the entrance with mud as neatly
and smoothly as if it had been laid by
a brick-layer.
The common Swallow frames her nest
of clay and earth, strengthening it and
making it fast with common straw. It
is generally found on house-tops and
churches, is comfortably lined with feath-
ers and moss, has a little round door near
the top, and is of oval or globular shape.
75


O
BIRDS—NESTING_
The nests of the Song-thrush are more
remarkable in some respects than those
of the swallow. They are shaped like
a half orange, and are formed in the
branches of trees—the outside being
made. of moss, while the inside is lined
with some ‘smooth, glazed substance.
The Jay is‘ a basket-maker, for his
nest is formed of various roots thickly
matted together. The Missel-thrush rears
a rough scaffolding of stems, dry grass,
and moss, plasters it together with a
substantial wall of clay, and lines the
whole with dry grass. The nests of the
Crow, the Raven, and the Rook are con-
structed much on the same pattern.
The Redbreast and the Yellow-ham-
mer weave and felt their nests, and they
look so warm and closely knitted that
| ¢


BIRDS—NESTING.
an old lady once said she thought these
birds might be taught to darn stockings.
Their chief composition is moss and
lichen, the wings or shells of fine seeds,
the downy substance of plants, and the
stalks of the common fern. V
But the bird of all others that is most
sensitive, and suffers more from the rob-
bery of its nest, is that sweet songs_ter
the Nightingale. Every note of his -song
is expressive of his feelings and condi-
tion,—of joy or grief,— of contentment
or of pain. The most thoughtless youth
cannot dare to justify or excuse such
heartless robbery of a harmless, innocent
bird. It is neither sport nor amusement,
and no true-hearted, noble boy will ever
encourage or take part in the cruel pas-
time of Birds-nesting.


_ KATIE’S OFFERING.
~ATIE’S father was very sick. He
r' had been in bed for two weeks,
$4 and for a week Katie had not seen
him. The room where her mother
took care of him all day long was very
dark indeed. It made Katie sleepy just
to pass the door; but yesterday she
heard mamma tell the doctor that papa
could not sleep at all; and the doctor
had shaken his head, and looked very,
very grave through his gold-bowed spec-
tacles.
“And,” said mamma, “he cannot eat;
no matter what nice things I make
. vb


' KATIE'S OFFERING. |
for him, he turns his head away from
them.”
“Poor papa!” thought Katie; “and
that was such a lovely custard he had
this morning: how could he help eat-
ing it,-I wonder?” _
Katie loved her father very much,
and she often lingered outside the door
to catch the-sound of his voice. It
seemed as though every one could do
something for him but herself; she was
too little to be of any use. Annie sat
and fanned him ever so long some-
times, and Jennie made him gruel and
toast; even Charlie ran for the doctor.
“I wonder what I could do!” thought
Katie, tripping on tiptoe about the door.
“Little children ain’t good for much.”
Suddenly she whispered: “I know, I


KATIE’S OFFERING.
Annie took them in to papa, and Katie
lingered outside the door. She couldn’t
hear what Annie said, but she heard her
father answer in a weak voice: "
“Katze./ did little Kate pick them her-
self, such a long way ofi, on this hot
afternoon? Dear child, dear child! let
her come in.”
And Kate hurried in without being
asked again.
“I haven’t tasted anything so good
for a fortnight,” said papa; “ thank you,
dear little daughter. I think I can eat
every one of them. Give me a kiss,
Katie.”
Katie’s heart was filled with joy; and
as for papa, he never forgot that plate
of ripe, red berries.
H


_
llAl§lt\"S FOURTII OF JULY_


MAKING “FOURTH OF JULY.”
he grasped the soldier by the head and
gave him a dance. He sang “Yankee
Doodle,” but as that was all he knew
of the verse, and as he couldn’t get
along with the tune, it didn’t amount
to very much more than the soldier.‘
But Harry was the merriest, most
sunny-tempered child in the world, and
he was determined to have as good a
time as he possibly could. He danced
and sang and shouted, and waved his
flag above his head, until grandmamma,
who was trying to get asleep down-
stairs, came up to see what could be
the matter. She was a little afraid that
her pet might be in mischief, but she
had to laugh as loud as he when she
saw how he looked and howiresolutely
he was dancing. |


MAKING “FOURTH or JuLY."'
“And you were a good little boy to
try and amuse yourself all alone, and
not cry and fret as many a child would
do. Youimay go on with your Fourth
of July, dear, and have all the fun you
want. And here’s my bag for a knap-
sack; soldiers all have knapsacks, you
know.”
Then she tied her pretty purple silk
bag to the string of Harry’s apron, and
left- him dancing his “Yankee Doodle,”
as he called it. And do you know what
she thought as she softly closed the door
and went down-stairs to finish her nap?
Why, what could she think but this?'—
that Harry was the best little boy in
the‘ whole city; and she was certainly
one of the proudest of grandmothers.


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NANNIE‘S SCHOOL.
_ “ Bow ! ” said poor little Fido, winking
his eyes at Nannie.I
“If you don’t ’have yourself ’mejitly,”
said the little schoolmistress, “I shall be
’bliged to keep you in this afternoon,
Fido.” i
“ Bow-wow-wow,” said Fido; and he
sprang at Nannie in a naughty, frolic-
some way, and tore one of the leaves
of her lesson-book halfI across the page.
For, poor little doggy, he couldn’t un-
derstand what Nannie meant by school,
and a was just the same as 2:, y, and z
to him. i
“O Fido! Fido! you’re just the naugh-
tiest, naughtiest dog,” said Nannie. s_ “ I
don’t b’lieve you’ve got any common
sense. i I’ll have to stand you in a
corner.”
i


NANNIE’S SCHOOL.
And the little chippy-bird went in and
told her family all about it. She~thought
she could keep a better school herself;
and I shouldn’t wonder a bit if she
could.
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SNOWBALLIN G. '
~T a merry little party
Now at play-
~ Riding, rolling,‘ making snowballs,
This cold day.
All right for llllle people+
I . They won’t tire; |
But the best place for the aged
Is by the fire.
The pretty robin-redbreasts too,
See how they come,
Hoping for a Christmas dinner -
-To find a crumb.


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PLAYING AT “ KEEPING STORE.”


PLAYING AT “KEEPING STORE.”
sion. “I shaIn’t play if you go on like
that!”
Clerk Charlie was busily engaged in
scribbling in a large book; but when
he heard the noise, he turned round
sharply, and called Mary “a little cross-
patch.”
“ O, she’s always quarrelling about
something or other,” interposed little
Tommy Titmouse.
So cross little Mary was turned out
of the play; and then it went on with-
out any quarrelling all the afternoon.
After they had sold all their stock,
Charlie’s mamma, who liked to see the
little ones enjoy themselves, brought in
some nice oranges and apples and can-
dies, and Hattie set out all her dolls’
playthings, and they had such a good


PLAYING AT “KEEPING STORE.”
time of it that they were quite surprised
when" the big clock in the hall struck
eight.
Presently Charlie’s eldest sister came
in, and sat down to the piano and played
some dance tunes; and after they had
all danced themselves tired, Hattie’s
mother made them some nice lemonade.
But where was Mary Martin all this
while? She had been sulking all the
evening in the corner of the room,
frowning andfolding her arms, and an-
gry with everybody; but no one took
any notice of her, not even when the
feasting and dancing was going on.
If children only knew how ugly and
hateful they are when they are sulky
and quarrelsome, I am sure they would
never be so. _ ' '


THE DRUMMER-BOY.
NTO the fight went the drummer,
“ Rub-a-dub-dub” went his drum,
Every beat of the drum-sticks
-sQi%%
Called the soldiers to come.
And the drummer thought of his mother,
Praying at home for him,
While throughi the dust and the battle
’ His sweet blue eyes grew dim. _ -
He thought of his little sisters,—
Golden-haired Susy and Joe,——
And he beat his drum the better
Because ‘he loved themiso.


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DRU MMLR-BOY.
_


THE DRUMMER—BOY.
And he thought of the dear Lord Jesus,
Who held him close and true,-
Who cares for the little sparrows,
And His little drummers too.
So into the fight went the drummer,
And “rub-a-dub-dub” went his drum,
For every beat of his drum-sticks
Called the soldiers to come.


THE STORY OF A PIN.
One day, while he was passing along
the street, he came to a great store,
with ever so many beautiful things in
the windows. It was just at dusk, and
some one was lighting the lamps inside,
and a good many little boys were run-
ning_about here and there. “I wonder
if they don’t want another, just like
me!” thought this poor little fellow;
and he stopped and leaned his face
against the window, and looked in with
great, wistful eyes.
A tall gentleman was walking about
here and there, and the little boy
thought to himself: “Now that’s the
man‘ that keeps the store. I’ll just
walk in and ask him to take me.” And
being a brave little boy, so he did.
“Take another boy!” said the gen-


THE STORY OF A PIN.
with a heavy heart, when he heard some
one call out to him, “Hold on, my little
fellow!” and he looked around and saw
the same gentleman who had been in
the store. He laid his hand on the
little boy’s head, and looked kindly in
his eyes.
“I think we do want another boy,”
he said, “because a little fellow like
you, who is careful to save a pin, will
certainly make a good business-man.”
And the little fellow, being honest and
true, did make a very good business-man,
I can assure you.

_


POOR CARLO.
~RINl'), grind, grind — how tired
the poor old organ must be!"’
$1 thought poor little (Iarlo to him-
Q, selfi All the time fine people
went by,—pretty ladies and dear little
children, —but they all looked another
way, and hardly heard his music.
_ “That is because I have no monkey,”
thought Carlo. “If I only had a mon-
key, now, how the children would run
to me!” -
Now and then a little child would
stop to listen, and one or two dropped
pennies in his hand. But the pennies


I
POOR CARLO_
were not his own; he could never spend
them for candies or good things. All
the money went to Carlo’s hard-hearted
master, and Carlo was often beaten, and
always hungry.
But Carlo had another Master now.
He used to think there was very little
to live for, and sometimes he wished so
hard that he might die, as his mother
did. But six months ago he began to
go‘ to Sunday-school, and his teacher,
who was good and kind, had been to
see little Carlo, and had found out how
miserable he was. And Carlo learned
about the dear Lord Jesus, who died
f0r_him. And when he told his teacher
how much he wanted to die, that kind
friend made him feel how much better
it was to live and work for Christ than


POOR CARLO_
to sfret over his hard condition and long
to die.
“ But how can I work for the Lord?”
asked Carlo, with sparkling eyes, for his
heart was warm with the thought of
what Christ had done for him.
“Why, my dear boy, if you only grind
your organ the very best you_ can, you
are doing it for the Lord, if you will,”
said the teacher; “ and if you want to
serve Him, He will give you better
things to do some day, perhaps.”
So Carlo ground his organ with a
will; he ground all the time, too, never
stopping to play; and the children gave
him more pennies than before.
“Only a fellow gets so tired,” said
poor Carlo. ~
It was a very hot day, and Carlo stood


POOR' CARLO_ .
“ He did give me something better to
do,” said Carlo, as they lifted him, groan-
ing‘ with pain, “and I’m glad I did it.”
They took him to the hospital, and in
a week he‘ died.
One day the little girl came with her
mamma to see ICarlo, and brought him
some beautiful flowers.
“Whata good boy you must be, and
how you must love little children, to
risk your own life so!” said the lady,
bending over to kiss him.
“That was not Iit,” said Carlo, “but
because I love the Lord Jesus, and be-
cause he did more than that for me,
lad y.”
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THE BORROWED KITTEN. _


THE BORROWED KITTEN.
I knew I should have to give up my
kitty, and so I did. I think there were
a few tears shed over his going,'for I
felt very much grieved. You see he had
grown almost as dear as a kitten could
possibly be. I wrote some little verses,
which perhaps you will think very silly,
about our parting. But I will tell them to Q
you, and that is all I have to say about my
pussy. These were the three little verses:
“ My pussy, we must part!
Sad thoughts come o’er me of thy joyous plays,
Thy merry antics and thy winning ways,‘
Sad thoughts that wring my heart. -
“For, pussy, you must go;
That, O my darling! is the stern decree;
Sure, ne’er was kitten half so sweet as thee,
My heart clings to thee so.
“My pussy, fare-thee-well!
My little kitty, beautiful and fair,
With round blue eyes, and sofls, mouse-colored hair,
My pussy, fare-thee-well!” '


OUT OF PRISON_
_
Free to fly back to the swinging nest,
And the baby-robins in soft down dressed
Over and over the fields of clover,
Merrily fluttered the redbreast rover;
Bursting out sweetly in thankful song,
Carolling loudly and carolling long.
Only think what a merry tea
They had that night in the apple-tree!
Worms and crickets and blue-winged
flies,-—
How the babies opened their eyes!
And then to fancy the stories told -
Of robbers, prisons, and giants bold!
And oh! such a Queen——Who would ever
guess
That the fairy’s name could be good
Queen Bess ‘E


THE LITTLE FUGITIVE
ATTER, patter, went the little white
feet past the sitting-room window,
and a few yards after came three
s%s®
great boys, armed with stones, to
worry and kill a little, helpless rabbit.
They weren’t very brave, you see—three
to one.
“Hurrah! isn’t it a. famous hunt?”
cried one.
“There she goes! there she goes!”
screamed another.
Little Dora stood by the window with
her hat on, ready to go out with Aunt
Kate. -


THE LITTLE FUGITIVE.
“ Oh, _oh!” she cried, her cheeks grow-
ing very red when she saw what they
were doing. “Oh, the poor little dear!
Dick, Dick!” she called to her brother,
who sat at the other window, reading
“Robinson Crusoe ;” “there are three
naughty boys chasing one poor, little
Bunny.”
“Well, what of it?” said Dick; “’tisn’t
any of your business, Dot.” _
Little Dora rushed out on the stoop
with the tears running down her cheeks ;
and the poor little rabbit went by again,
and the great boys after it.
The little Bunny’s heart went“ pit-a-
pat,” “pit-a-pat,” so. fast that Dora could
see it quite plainly, and its eyes had
such a wild, pleading look that she cried
afresh.


THE LITTLE FUGITIYE.
“ Oh, you naughty, naughty boys ! ” she
called to them, “to worry a poor little
rabbit so!” _
And the boys laughed at her as they
ran, and threw more sticks and stones.
“ Oh, dear God, please save Bunny!”
said Dora, way down in Iher heart.
While she stood sobbing, the rabbit sud-
denly turned about, and Dora sprang in
front of him, and held out her two
little arms. “How could one be afraid
of her?” thought Bunny; and he ran
right to her, trembling, and almost dead.
Dora held the little prisoner close, and
drew up her dress to cover it.
“You can’t_have him any more,” she
said, as the boys stood still in wonder;
“ he knew I loved him, and so he
came right to me: and God won’t love


THE LITTLE FUGITIVE. '
you a bit if you worry little rabbits
and kittens; least, I shouldn’t think he
7!
would.
Then she went into the house, and
Bunny with her; such a happy little
Bunny! And he lived—oh yes, and
grew fat, with such a kind little nurse.
And he never forgot what little Dora
had done for him.

_


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A TREASURE OF A BABY
- i—-A


A TREASURE A- BABY.
~ESSIE isbeautiful, Bessie is fair,
Blue are her eyes, and sunny her
~ hair,
On her white forehead is lurkin
- no care. |
2'
Round her mouth ripple perpetual smiles,
Many the moments that Bessie beguiles,
Dainty and sweet are her innocent wiles.
Up in the morning as soon as ’tis light,
Off goes the frilled little bed-gown of white,
For Bessie, you know, mustn’t look like a
fright. I '
~
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I


A TREASURE OF A BABY.
Her dresses are changed sometimes thrice
a day, '
Yet Bessie, serenely, has nothing to
say,
And never dares hint she’d like her own
way!
She stands with a look of rebuking sur-
prise '
When one of the family quarrels or
cries;
Just think, for a baby, how cunning and
wise!
Rare are the laces that border her
gown;
Rufiies run crosswise, and rufiles run
| _down;
A fashion?-b16 baby, directly from town.


Q
A TREASURE OF A BABY.
She came to our house, I will frankly
confess, -
Done up in a bundle, and labelled
“ Express ; ”
But what was the bundle? Why, no
one could guess.
But when it was opened they shouted
“How jolly!”
Though grandma considered it very great
_ folly, _
For Bessie, dear children, is only a dolly!


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LOTTIE AND THE LADY-BIRD.


V
LOTTIE AND THE LADY-BIRD.
~ANKY FARLEY was walking in
the garden with his sister Lottie
~ the other evening, when he saw a
' beautiful little bird on the branch
of a tree. It had bright-blue wings, with
a crimson tuft on the top of its head,
and a tail of blue and white feathers
intermixed. It sang so prettily, too, that
he could not help listening. Presently
he heard his father’s footsteps approach-
ing, and he ran up to him and said :_
“ O please, dear papa, tell me the name
of that pretty little bird!”
“Why, that is a bird called the Bob-


LOTTIE AND THE LADY—BIRD.
“What a cruel boy you are, Franky!
How would you like to be put in a box
and shut up, so that you could not
breathe ?”
“Oh, very well, Miss Particular. Just
as you like. Iiknow how to get rid of
him_ quick enough.”
Saying this, Franky took the Lady-bird
out of the box, and putting it on the
tip of his finger, began singing:
“ ‘ Lady-bird, Lady-bird, fly away home,
Your house is on fire, your children are gone.’ ”
“Why, you don’t suppose the poor
little thing understands what you are
saying, Franky, do youl?” '
“Well, I don’t care whether he does
or not; all I know is, he’s gone away.”
“Yes, because you let him out of the


LOTTIE AND THE LADY-BIRD_ "
box, you know. I think it’s very cruel
to keep poor little insects and butterflies
shut up like that.”
We should never do to poor helpless
animals what we would not like our-
selves.

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SPOTSIE.
~HNNY was a dear little fellow,
' only four years old, when he went
Q to spend the summer at his Uncle
George’s. Uncle George lived on
a great farm, where ever so many things
grew that were good to eat. But more
than all that, there were “ real, live ” pigs
and horses, and red and white _cows,—-
so many cows that it seemed to Johnny
the men could never get through milk-
ing them in the mornings and evenings.
But I must tell you what pleased
Johnny most of all; can you guess?
What do you think you would like on a


U
_ I
SPOTSIE.
farm better than anything else‘! Johnny
liked the chickens !—the soft little balls
of down, and their great clucking moth-
ers. He liked to scatter crumbs of bread,
and see the mothers call the little ones"
to come and eat, making. such a great
noise, as though no one had ever found
a crumb of bread before themselves!
Johnny did not like the roosters, be-
cause he was a little afraid of them:
they crowed at him with such a great
noise, and flapped_ their heavy wings.
Johnny thought they were like some
naughty little boys, who try to see how
much racket they can make.
Uncle George saw how much Johnny
was pleased_with the chickens, and how
very tender and kind he was to them.
And he thought a boy who would take


SPOTSIE_
morsels for his dear little hon, and she
ate them out of his own little hand.
Johnny could think of nothing else all
day, nor dream of anything else at
night.
But one day Spotsie disappeared, and
she didn’t come back the next day, nor
the next. Johnny cried, and felt very
badly; but the next day came Mrs.
Spotsie, looking rather thin, and seeming
in a great hurry. As soon as she had
swallowed her breakfast, she ran away
as fast as her little legs would carry
her. So she did every morning; she
always came to breakfast and supper;
but her little master could never find
her at any other time. Johnny was
beginning to feel very lonesome and
jealous, when one morning—what do
)


SPOTSIE.
you think!—in walked Spotsie to her
breakfast with a whole family at her
heels—a family of ten! Johnny was so
delighted that he laughed till the tears
ran down his cheeks. For every one of
them was his own, you know. After
that, he loved Spotsie more than ever.

_


JENNY IN TROUBLE.
Q ENNY waS a very good little girl.
She always ran quickly when
$ mamma called her to do any-
thing, and she was always ready
with a pleasant smile for any one who
came near her. But even good little
Jenny had onl: very naughty fault,
which made her dear friends very un-
happy. Jenny- always “forgot.” She
meant to do right; she meant to be
good and kind to every one; she meant
to put her playthings all neatly away
at bed-time; but she forgot, you see.
And that was very naughty indeed;


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JENNY IN TROUBLE.
because, with a little trouble, she could
have learned to remember. She forgot
to study her lessons for school; she for-
got to water her flowers in the garden;
she even forgot to feed poor Fido and
Pussy.
That last was a very sad fault, of
course; because the cook always trusted
to Jenny to give Fido and Pussy their
food; and when Jenny forgot, the poor
cat and dog went hungry.
One day Jenny was in a great hurry
to go to school, and she quite forgot to
give her pets their breakfast. Poor Fido
found a bone which he had buried a
week before, and he made a rather de-
cent meal upon that. But Pussy could
find nothing at all,—not even a mouse
or a sparrow,—and she went mewing


JENNY IN TROUBLE_
about all the morning in a very hungry
state of mind.
When Jenny came home from school
she was so anxious to get at a new bon-
net she was making for her dolly, that
even the piteous mewing at her_ feet
didn’t help her to remember that Pussy
was hungry. I
Mamma and grandma were -busy in
the sitting-room, so the little girl took
her doll’s things and went out on the
cool, shady porch. There she sat busily
stitching away, and thinking how charm-
ing the bonnet would look.
“Dear me,” said grandma at last, “what
can be the matter with that cat? she
has done nothing but cry the whole
afternoon.”
“I wonder if she is hungry,” said


JENNY IN TROUBLE. I
mamma. “Jenny! come here a mo-
ment.”
Jenny dropped her sewing, and ran
at once. I
“Did you give Fido and Pussy any
dinner to-day?”
“Oh, no, mamma; I quite forgot.”
“Why, Jenny! didn’t you give them
any breakfast either?”
“Oh, dear mamma, I was in such a
hurry,” said Jenny, quite ashamed, “I
really did forget.”
“My dear little girl, do you know
you have been very cruel?” said mam-
ma. “Do you think the dear Lord is
pleased with his children when they are
unkind to poor, helpless animals?”
Jenny began to sob and cry.
“And my little daughter must go


JENNY IN TROUBLE.
without her own supper to-night, to
show her what it is to go hungry, and
to teach her not to forget.”
“ Without supper ?q oh, mamma ! ” cried
Jenny. _
“-One piece of dry bread; that is all,
Jenny.” _
Jenny ran off to feed her pets; but
the tears were running down her cheeks.
She felt very sorryfor Fido and Pussy,
and a little sorry for herself It did her
good to see poor, hungry Pussy lap up
the bread and milk.
“I shan’t ever let you go hungry
again, you poor thing!” she said, catch-
ing Pussy up in her arms. “I’m just
as sorry as I can be, and I hope the
dear Lord will forgive me.”


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THE SNOW—STORM.
the pretty white curtains. “Theres no
use in talking, Katie,” she said, “be-
cause you can’t go—and there’s an end
of it.”
Then Nannie sat down on a low stool
in front of theiwindow to watch the
white flakes come tumbling and floating
down. Gipsy sat down beside her, and
looked very sad from sympathy.
“I s’pose all the boys will think it’s
just elegant,” said Nannie, with a little
sigh; “-they’ve all got skates and things.
Wish little girls might have a good
time too.” '-
“Nannie,” said mamma, from the other
window, where she sat with her sew-
ing. I
“Yes, mamma,” said Nannie, still look-
ing sadly at the snow-flakes.


THE SNOW-STORM.
“Who do you think makes the snow-
flakes fall, dear?” '
“Why, God, mamma.”
“And don’t you suppose God knows
just the right time to send them, dear?
And don’t you think He cares whether
His little girls are happy?” i
Nannie looked very thoughtful, but
she didn’t answer at first.
“The snow-flakes are making a nice
warm bed-quilt to lay over your roses,
Nannie, and keep them warm and safe
for next summer.”
“Does the snow really keep them
Warm?” asked Nannie.
“Indeed it does. And look, darling,
how beautiful it is. There are little
white stars, and flowers, and all kinds
of pretty things lying spread out on


THE SNOW—STORM
my window-sill. Can’t you find any on
yours?” _
“Oh yes, mammal the little ones, all
alone!” cried Nannie. “How lovely
they are! Is it all made of just such
pretty little stars—all the snow that
we walk on? Oh! I wish it could lie
just so, and keep white and clean.”
“I think it is worth losing a walk in
the Park, just to see it fall, Nannie. It
comes so softly and quietly.”
“And the _Lord sends it too,” said
Nannie, softly. “I’ll think of that when
I’m cross about it again. I’ll think
about its keeping my rose-bushes warm
too.” _
“And if it stops snowing to-morrow,
dear, and the snow is deep enough, I
shouldn’t wonder if papa would take


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ELLEN'S TEMPTATION.
would put_it into the heart of a kind
lady to send them a great hot dinner,
enough for all the hungry mouths, and
some left over for to-morrow. Some-
times, when all looked so very dark, the
mother would find good steady work for
days and days. And the children were
strong, and hearty, and well; and health
is a great blessing. Why, I am sure
you never enjoyed a Christmas dinner
at grandpapa’s half so well as Ellen and
her two little brothers enjoyed a great
bowl of soup with a crust of bread
broken into it.
But I must tell you my story, and I
shan’t have room unless I begin. ‘
!
Once a kind lady wanted to take Ellen
into her home, to do a little waiting, and
dusting, and running on errands. Ellen


ELLEN’S TEMPTATION.
could go to school every morning, too,
which, you see, was very nice indeed.
Everything went so smoothly for a week.
Only the lady was_talking of going into
the country, the beautiful green coun-
try, and Ellen did wish so ‘much that
she could go too! She had never seen
the country, and it seemed to her like
a wonderful fairy-tale. But the lady
never said she might go.
“ Oh dear!” sighed Ellen one morning,
as she dusted the lady’s bed-room; “I
wish something nice would happen!”
She heard a loud “tick, tick,” from
one of the little drawers of the bureau,
and very softly she opened the drawer
and looked. That was very naughty,
you see. _
There lay the lady’sI beautiful watch
w’ | -—-=——€——-- » _ >i$


ELLEN’S TEMPTATION. _
on a velvet cushion. How pretty it
was! Ellen took it up in her hand and
looked at it._
“It must be wo_rth so much!” she
said aloud. “No one would know if I
slipped it in my pocket: and I could
buy mother such a beautiful new dress ! ”
But the lady was listening at the
door, and she said to herself: “What a
dreadful child that is. I’m glad I came
up after my watch, and caught her.”
“Dear, dear !” said Ellen, slipping back
the watch and shutting the ‘drawer
quickly; “the idea of my ever thinking
of such a thing, when mother says the
Lord Jesus is watching me all the time!
He’ll be just as sorry as can be.”
What do you think? Why, the lady
rushed in and caught little Ellen right


LITTLE POLL PRY.
~E peeped intoeverything, you
see; nothing could be kept from
~ her. So every one called her
“ Poll Pry,” because she was a
girl, and couldn’t be Paul Pry, of course.
Not a box or a basket ever came in
her way but Polly would see the inside
of it. Perhaps you will hardly believe
it, but if she | saw a market-woman go
by with a basket, Polly always longed
to look in and see if she had turnips
or squashes. Very queer of her —don’t
you think so? Poor papa could never
come home at night but he had almost


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LITTLE POLL PRY.
began to look around her. What could
possibly be in that basket? Could Aunt
Fanny have brought peaches! ‘Peaches
were ripe; oh, such beautiful ones she
saw in the market‘ yesterday! Polly
sniffed and sniffed about Aunt Fanny’s
basket. She couldn’t tell if there were
any peaches there.
“It wouldn’t do a bit of harm if I
just peeped in,” said Miss Polly to her-
self “Aunty would never know.”
She raised the lid of the basket a very
little, and stood upon tiptoe to see.
Great, beautiful, blue plums on top, and
underneath pears, — yellow, and red-
cheeked, and tempting,— that was what
she saw. But all at once, “buzz, buzz,
buzz,” something flew in her face. Polly
put up her hand to brush it away, and


LITTLE POLL PRY.
the basket fell with a crash to the floor.
Lovely yellow pears and tempting blue
plums all rolled about under foot.
“Oh,oh, oh!” cried Polly, for she felt
a great, sharp pain just over her eye.
The more it pained her, the more she
screamed; and when mamma came rush-
ing in with Aunt Fanny, they found the
poor little girl fairly rolling on the floor,
while a great angry bee buzzed out of
the window.
“He stung me, he stung me !” cried
Polly. “Oh, oh, oh!”
“Did he tip over my basket too?”
asked aunty; and she began to pick up
the fruit at her "feet. |
“Oh, I’ll never, never look again!”
sobbed Polly, running to hide in her
mamma’s arms.


LITTLE POLL PRY.
Aunt Fanny had been very sorry for
a long time over Polly’s naughty fault,
and now she said:
“I think, my dear little girl, you have
had enough of my fruit this time. If
you really do overcome your fault be-
fore II come again, you shall have a
beautiful basket of fruit to yourself
But I don’t think you can have it this
time.”
And mamma said that was quite right.

_


O
| THE SQUIRRELS.
UT though my squirry was full of
glee,
A freer and merrier life than he
Did his brothers lead in the old
"i beech-tree.
fifi
Their pillared hall was garlanded
With polished ivy, and overhead
A dome of sapphire sky was spread.
Branch, and stem, and elastic spray,
Brown, and green, and silvery gray,
High and low were their haunts for
Play : '


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THE SQUIRRELS_
They stooped to drink at the forest
rills
Bubbling forth from the ferny hills,
And golden brimmed with daffodils.
They stopped to pluck, when they chose
to dine,
The juicy buds of the fragrant pine
Running o’er with turpentine.
Then for dessert they had hazel-nuts,
Noble filberts and mealy roots,
Brown chestnuts and tender shoots.
When the checkered lines of light and
shade
Slanted at eve through their colonnade,
Said they: “Is it not high time for
- bed?”


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UNCLE J OE’S STORY.


UNCLE JOE’S STORY.
OW, Uncle Joe,” cried the children,
climbing around his chair, “ you
"flsfi
must tell us a story, all about the
time you went up in a balloon.”
“Ah!” said Uncle Joe, smiling, “I am
afraid you all know that story better
than I do, by this time, and only want
to laugh at your poor old uncle.” i
“Oh, indeed, we never will laugh!” they
cried; “ but it’s such a very nice story ! ”
So Uncle Joe began:
“Once upon a time, I had a great
desire to go up in a balloon. Whenever
I heard of one going up, I always wanted
I Q
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UNCLE JOE'S STORY.
to see; and so I became quite well known
among the aéronauts, as the men who
sail balloons are called.”
“ Why do they call them such a funny
name?” asked Pet.
“Because they go up in the air, my
dear; Well, I was only a young man
then, and I was so very curious that
they used to like to tell me all about
their great balloons, and how they worked
them. One kind old fellow told me a
great deal about his travels in the air,
and one day, when he was going up all
alone, he said that I might go with him.”
“And was'n’l you a bit afraid?” asked
Jack, with wide open eyes.
“Well, no, I don’t think I was,” said
Uncle Joe. “ You see I wanted to go
so much, and I thought myfgood friend
Q


UNCLE JOE’S STORY.
would see that all was right. But just
as we were about to start, and I was
nicely seated in the little car, the aero-
naut suddenly fainted away, letting go
the" rope which he held. Before I knew
it I was floating ofi" alone into mid-air.
I can’t begin to tell you, my_dears, how
dreadfully I felt. Then I was really
scared, Jacky. Up, up, up I went, hour
after hour, and all I could do was just
to pray God that in some way He would
save me.”
“That was just the ve_ry best thing
to do, wasn’t it?” asked little Annie.
“It was indeed, dearie; but I had a
long and dreadful time of it. At last
I could feel that the balloon and I were
slowly coming down. It seenied a long,
long time before I could distinguish any-


UNCLE J OE’S STORY.
thing below me; but at last I could_see
that I was over a great body of water.
I was so frightened that the only thing
I could think of to do, was to climb to
the outside of the‘ car and jump. Of
course it was aq very foolish thing to do;
but we are not always wise, children,
and I thought if I could only get quit
of that old balloon, I didn’t much mind
where I was. So I jumped, and the
water closed over my head.”
“Oh, how did you get out?” cried
Johnny.
“A kind old fisherman was right at
hand, and picked me up when I rose.
But I was sick a long time, and never
wanted to go in a balloon again.”
“But God did save you,” said Annie,
softly.


SUGAR—MAKING_
was really the sugar, ran down into the
pails.
“Why, it doesn’t look like anything
but water,” said Ned. “I don’t believe
it’s going to he good.” '
“It isn’t like any maple sugar I ’ve
ever seen,” said Jack. Jack was twelve
years old, and he thought he had seen
a great deal.
Farm_er Brown laughed good-naturedly.
“You just wait till you taste it,” said he,
“and see if my maple sugar isn’t as good
as the next man’s.”
So the boys waited ; and they saw this
watery sap put in great kettles over
huge fires made of dry branches. Then
presently it all boiled down into the
most lovely syrup, and'the syrup har-
dened into the best maple sugar they


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DASH.
~ H, Dash was a great dog, I can
tell you! Nelly thought there
~ never was quite such a beautiful
and wise dog as he. But you see
Nelly had known “him all herlife, and
she had known very few dogs beside.
When Nelly was a little wee baby, Dash
used to sit and watch the cradle while
she slept, and if she stirred, he would
rock it very gently and send her off to
sleep again. When she grew older, Dash
used to be harnessed to her little wagon
and draw her all about the garden; and
when she was old enough to go to school,


DASH. _ -
whole family to the spot, and burnt him-
self quite badly trying to pull them down.
Then when little May fell into the water,
and no one was by to h_elp"her, it was
Dash that sprang in after her, and car-
ried her home, all dripping and cold, to
her dear mamma. -
Once when Dash was out with his mas-
ter, on a dark winter night, they went
through a very lonely street. Just as
they turned a corner, Dash trotting close
to his master’s heels, a rough-looking man
stepped up and walked beside them. Dash
pricked up his ears, and was all ready for
what might come. _ You see, he felt that
his master was in his care, and that he
must protect him.
“What time is it?” asked the man.
You see he wanted Dash’s master to


J ENN IE’S SACRIFICE
~ H, how hard the snow fell all night
' long! No one knew it until morn-
“fig? ing, to be sure. But when Kitty
' sprang out of bed first, and left
sleepy little Jennie behind, she saw the
air full of white flakes, and the snow
banked a foot high on the window-
sill. A moment more, and she saw old
Peter struggling out to the barn, with
the snow up to his knees. Then she
laughed, and clapped her hands with
glee.
“Oh, Jennie,” she cried, “do get up,
quick! it ’s been snowing like every-


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JENNIE’S SACRIFICE.
thing in the night. I’m quite certain
father will give us that sleigh-ride to-
day.” |
For father had promised that the very
first big snow-storm he would take the
large sleigh, which just held the whole
family, packed, and take them off to
Big Hollow, twelve miles away. For
three months the little‘ girls had talked
of this treat, and now it was justlat
hand. l
Jennie was up in a moment, and dress-
ing was a short matter that morning.
As Kitty was pinning her collar, poor
little Nelly Watson, who lived next door,
came in for a pail of skim-milk. Nelly
was very poor; there were never any
sleigh-rides for her.
“Poor little thing,” said kind-hearted


JENNIE’S SACRIFICE.
Mother saw that it was a struggle, so
she just kissed her little daughter, and
told her that she might stay, and that
Barbara and Nelly should go; though
mother would a good deal rather have
stayed herself Everybody was very
sorry; but they all kissed Jennie very
tenderly, as she stood on the stoop to
see them ofli
As for Jennie herself, though she cried
a little at first, her heart felt light and
happy all day. And Barbara and Nelly
had such a good time!
vd
3

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7
HOW FRANK WAS PUNISHED.
~ANK’S uncle had given him a
beautiful little ship, with real,
.~ hemmed sails, and an American
’ flag flying from the mast-head.
Frank was so happy that he could
hardly contain himself He named her
the “Mary,” after his mother, and his
mother gave him a wash-tub full of
water to sail her: in. That was all very
fine for a little while; but Frank soon
tired of that, and making voyages in a
wash-tub seemed very stupid work. I
“ She’s too pretty for this old tub,” he
said. “Mother, do let me take her down


HOW FRANK WAS PUNISHED.
It was a hard pull for the poor fel-
low, but he drew Frank safely' to shore,
and glad enough he was to do it. You
see, he was not angry for the hard words
Frank had spoken to him. But Frank
was bitterly sorry for them, and he
never, never forgot his sin of that day.
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THE 'KANGAR00. '
“ Tl1ere’s Jack the Giant-killer,” said
Charlie, thoughtfully.
“Or the Princes in the Tower,” said
Phil. _
“No, no—poor little babies!” cried
Louie, covering her pretty blue eyes.
She never liked that story.
“Oh, auntie,” said Grace, “I’ve found
such a funny picture in an old paper!
Such a queer-looking creature; I don’t
see what it is, auntie. It can’t be a
horse, or a monkey, I’m sure. And
there-’s a little bit of a one, sitting on
the big one’s lap, all wrapped up in
baby-clothes. I wish you’d tell us about
that.”
Grace brought out her picture, and
the little children looked and wondered.
Phil said it was a giraffe; he knew,


TI-IE KANGAROO_
_
because he had seen one at the Museum.
Charlie thought it was a jackass, but he
wasn’t sure.
“No, I don’t believe any of you ever
saw such a creature as this,” said auntie,
laughing. “We don’t have them in our
country. But Phil has studied geogra-
phy, and he will remember Australia, I
guess. There are a great many of these
animals there; so many that they some-
times do a great deal of harm, and the
farmers have to shoot them. You see,
their heads look something like the
head of a good-natured donkey,—they
have such long ears and thoughtful
eyes.” '
“That’s just what I thought,” said
Charlie.
“But you never saw a donkey hold-
1» ' _


THE KANGAROO.
_
of the bag, like this little kangaroo in
the picture, and they can see all there
is to be seen.”
“Isn’t it funny?” said Charlie.
“And wasn’t God good to give them
such a nice cradle?” said Grace.
\“<"
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_


THE VOYAGE. i
~EN and Tom had known each
other ever since they were wee lit-
~ tle boys, and that was— how long
ago do you think? Why, all of
five or six years at least. Allen’s father
was a sea-captain, and went ofi' on long
voyages. When he came home, he would
bring back very beautiful shells with pink
linings, and the sea roaring inside of them.
And on winter evenings he told the boys
long stories of icebergs and great white
bears; and of the groves where oranges
grew in such plenty that little boys
might stand and pick and eat all day,


THE VOYAGE.
but there would always be enough for
to-morrow.
Allen’s mother would say: “Oh, don’t
put such fancies into the children’s heads,
my dear;” for she was afraid her lit-
tle boy would be going to sea some
day.
But Allen and Tom would say to each
other: “If we only might sail in a ship,
and see all these wonderful things, what
happy boys we would be!”
At last there came a very happy day
to the two little friends. Allen’s father
was going ofi' on a long voyage to South
America, and he said that Tom and Allen
might go with him, if they would be very
good, and never make any trouble. I
think you never saw such good boys as
they began to be from that time. Tom


THE VOYAGE_
few ‘days, and felt like “ real live ” sailors
themselves. You wouldn’t ‘believe it,
perhaps, but in a few days they learned
to climb like any of the sailor lads. I They
would even climb up to the foretop, and
sit there and talk of home and their
mothers; for sometimes, when the great
ship rocked like a cradle, they grew very
homesick indeed.
That was _a famous voyage, and all
the wonderful things they saw I have
no room to tell you; only I can tell
you this: they were very glad to see
their mothers when they came home
again. _
Q ‘Q D I
>>~t


CARL.
pay for the one little room in a garret,
where they lived day after day.
At last one day, when the landlord
came in for his money, Carl’s mother
drew out her bag, and there were only
a few pennies left in it. The landlord
was very cross indeed; he said there was
some one else waiting for the room, and
he would have to turn them out in a
day or two, unless they paid the rent.
So after he had gone, they all fell to
crying. Carl cried, and his mother cried,
and even the little sister cried; and
when they had cried for ever so long,
and were drying their eyes, then they
all hugged each other and cried again.
“Mother,” said Carl, “you always told
us that the good God helps those who
trust Him. You ask Him real hard to
“l


- CARL.
help us, and then I’ll go out and see
if I can’t find something to do.”
So the mother prayed to God; then
she put on Carl’s best jacket, and the
trousers with patches on the knees, and
sent him out. Carl walked a long, long
way, but no one seemed tp want any
little boys. There didn’t seem to be any-
thing for little boys to do. At last he
wandered almost into the country, where
the houses had beautiful gardens, and
everything looked so_ fresh and green.
Carl saw a pleasant, kind-looking gentle-
man coming out of a gate, and he went
up to him rather shyly, and asked if he
didn’t know of any work that little boys
like him could do. - -
“Little boys like you! why, you can’t
do much, can you?” asked the gentleman.
_ 0
Or


CARL.
“ I guess I can, sir,” said Carl, “ because
I want to help my mother.”
“Well, little boys that want to help
their mothers ought to have work,” said
the gentleman.
Then he took a card from his pocket
and wrote a few words upon it.
“You go in and knock at that little
side-door,” he said, “and tell the servant
to give that card to Mrs. Field.”
Carl ran ofi, with many thanks, and
knocked at the little side-door. The
servant left the little boy standing on
the steps while he took in the card.
But pretty soon such a lovely lady came
down to Carl, and began to talk to ‘him.
She smiled so pleasantly when she asked
him what he could do, that Carl thought
he could do almost anything. And then
--@-nit--1— ’


CHERRY-TIME.
“ Clear right out of here, you scamps!
Who gave you leave to shake my best
cherry-tree ?” ‘
Bob turned quickly around to see the
man who owned the cherry-tree. He
didn’t look so very cross as his voice
had made them think.
“We didn’t know it was yours, sir,
said Bob.
“Well, I suppose you knew it was
!7
smnebodjs, hey!”
“We thought cherry'-trees just grew
for anybody,” said Bob, meekly.
“We thought they all belonged to
God,” said Charlie. _ _
“Did, hey!” said the man. “Well,
now, what shall I do to you?”
“ We didn’t eat many yet,” said Bob.
“We was a savin’ ’em to take home
~


CHERRY-TIME. .
to mother,” said Charlie. “Mother gets
hungry sometimes.”
“Well, well,” said the man, “ I tell you
what: I’ll let you gather up all you want
olf the ground there for your mother.
But God gave this tree to me, you see;
and I live in that little brown house
yonder. Whenever you want cherries
again, you just come and ask me first.”
And the boys promised they would.

_


LITTLE PETER.
in hopes of seeing her. But the lady
had moved away.
' Peter’s father died soon after this, and
Peter had no one to take care of him;
but he still sang his little songs, and
sometimes they won him a few pennies
to buy some bread. But the lady’s shoes
had gone to pieces now, and when the cold
weather came on, PeterIhad to trudge
around through the snow in his little
bare feet. Oh, how they ached some-
times! But only Ha.rk pitied him, and
Hark shared every crust he had.
At last it was Christmas eve. Peter
remembered one Christmas, just one,
when he had been so happy. Father
had given him a drum and a wooden
horse, and he went to a Sunday-school
festival, where the lights, and the music,


LITTLE PETER.
and the Christmas-tree, had almost dazed
him. While he was thinking about it,
he came to a large house with lights
streaming out through the windows. The
snow was falling fast, but Peter crept up
on the door-step and peered in the win-
dow. There he saw such a beautiful
sight. The same lovely lady was there
who had given him the shoes; and
around ‘her were children, so many chil-
dren, laughing and_singing before a beau-
tiful ,Christmas-tree. Peter thought it was
just like Heaven; he looked and looked,
and then he sang a'little song; but no
one heard him. So he crouched down
on the door-step, where he could still
look in the window.
Peter remembered all they had told
him in Sunday-school, and now he began


LITTLE PETER.
to wonder if Heaven was just like this.
And he said something that was like a
little Christmas prayer: “ Dear Lord
Jesus, forgive me for being bad some-
times, and take me and Hark to Heaven.”
When the lady came out on the stoop,
and kissed the children, and bade them
good-night, she saw little Peter.
“Why, who is this?” she said; and
she touched his shoulder.
Poor little Hark looked up and whined,
but ‘Peter was very still and cold. But
his little feet never ached any more.


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AY DREAMS.
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DAY DREAMS.
too many of us; let’s see: John and
Jamie, and Meg and Sue, and little Kate,
, _
and me; thats six. Six mouths are so
many. But I guess—I don’t know—I
7
don t‘ believe we could spare anybody.
!
Tain’t so bad having nothing but por-
ridge for breakfast, and no milk; but I
don’t like trousers with holes in ’em—
so there! Makes_ all the boys laugh at
you.”
Charlie had Ia great ugly cloud on his
forehead. For, sure enough, one little
white knee came clear through an ugly
hole in the poor ragged trousers. _
“No shoes too; there ain’t anything
nice,” he began again. “There ain’t
much use being a‘ ! boy, any way. Just
wait till I get to be a man! I’ll go all
over the world, and Ill get to be rich,
6


PUSSY—CAT'S PORTRAIT.
mamma’s knitting-work. I think pussy
would very much rather have kept on.
playing ball; but she purred contentedly
in her little mistress’s arms, and kept
her thoughts on the subject quite to
herself Of course she had never had
her_ picture taken before, but -she had
been petted a great many times by dear
little Bessy, and she knew that all the
pats and hugs were very kindly given.
Ned stood laughing, with his hands
on his knees, and peered over Johnny’s
shoulder to see the picture grow.
“A picture of a cat!” he said; “ who
ever heard of such a thing!” -I
But Johnny worked away like a brave
little man, and Bessy was as sober as if
she were going to have a tooth pulled.
“Only please, dear Johnny-, don’t be


PUSSY—CAT’S PORTRAIT.
very long,” she said, “because pussy
- wiggles.” i i
“Make her stop winking her eyes,
then,” said Johnny; “she winks just as
fast as she can, and shakes her whisk-
ers.”
Pussy was thinking of the knitting-
work, you see, and wondering if there
were any sparrows out on -the back stoop,
and whether she could catch one or two
for her dinner.
But at last pussy’s head was drawn,
and Ithen her two tiny paws. They
couldn’t be black on the slate, you see,
but Johnny made a little white pussy,
and that did just as well.
“There, that’s what I call a real good
likeness,” said Ned. “Why, you’ve al-
most got the wink in, Johnny.”


THE TWO BABIES.
ID you ever see such a bright,
happy-faced kitten as baby num-
ber one? She is so brimming over


with smiles that she shows her
three pretty white teeth; _and no one
would ever believe that she knew how
to cry. Well, that is little Pet when
the day is warm and pleasant, and the
sweet suwhine comes in at the windows.
Then mamma says: “Now does little Pet
want to go out in her pretty carriage
and see the ‘bow-wows’ and the ‘choo-
choos"?” for Pet lives in the country;
Pet beams all over with smiles, and says,


THE TWO BABIES.
“ Little Pet mustn’t go out to-day.” That
is bad enough, for Pet understands, and
knows there will be no pretty carriage,
and no “bow-wows,” for ever so long:
only rubber dolls, and rattles, and canton-
flannel rabbits. She looks very cross, and
shakes her little head. Then, by-and-by,
she gets hungry, and nobody knows it.
May be Lizzie is busy, and it is ten
minutes over Pet’s dinner-time. That is
very hard for a dear little baby, and
may be her nap was very short that
morning. So little Pet screws up her
eyes, and opens her mouth, and begins
to yell. It isn’t amusical yell at all;
every one jumps and runs, and thinks
the baby is hurt. But no; the baby is
cross and hungry. She throws herself
back on the floor, and beats with her


TIIE TWO BABIES_
little feet, and screams at the very top
of her voice. Indeed, she sometimes
screams away until the dinner comes in;
then she looks almost like baby number
one again. * -
You see, little Pet has not learned yet
how much happier she is when she smiles.
But sometimes we wish the sun would
always shine, and that Pet could go out
every day in her carriage. But that
wouldn’t be well for little Pet, would it?
If life went too smoothly with her, slie
would never learn to"bear her little
crosses patiently.
‘
_ 0
@@@@>@@


BEAVERS.
is covered with scales, which must look
very funny.
I am sure you wouldn’t want to dine
with the beaver in winter time, for his
dinner is generally the bark of trees and
the roots -of water-lilies.‘ But in summer
he eats leaves and berries. He is a good
housekeeper, too, and lays up a store of
food in summer to last him through the
winter. Where do you think he keeps
the bark which he stores up for winter
use? Why, away down under the water.
But where the beaver lives it is very,
very cold. The.re is plenty of ice and
snow all winter long, and he wants to be
very sure that his food is so far under
water that it won’t get frozen up. So, if
he thinks the water is not deep enough,
he builds a dam across the stream, of





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