THE LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF 
 
 North Carolina 
 
 °^ v 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 « . 
 
 School of Library 
 Sciea«« 
 
\ 
 
 INSTRUCTION 
 
 AMUSEMENT FOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 A SERIES OF 
 
 IMPROVING TALES. 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH SEVERAL BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 ■m- 
 
 QrCciv-OXbavciv. 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY S BABCOCK. 
 
■ ^ V^»%i^»^'V%^<V*<*^W**VW^^Vwffi< 
 
INSTRUCTION 
 
 AMUSEMENT FOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 JULIA ROSCOE; 
 
 OR THE CARELESS LITTLE GIRL. 
 
 Julia, when very young, contracted a habit oi 
 carelessness, which her mother vainly endeavor- 
 ed to correct. Though of an extremely sweet and 
 docile disposition, she was also very lively and 
 volatile in her temper : so much so, that her pa- 
 rents were afraid if this careless turn were not 
 corrected, it might produce very unhappy conse- 
 quences. One morning, the following conversation 
 took place between Julia and her mother : 
 
 11 Julia, my dear, did you put the china cups in 
 the closet when I told you ?" 
 
 ^_ Julia started. " Oh ! I forgot !" 
 
 7 " Where did you leave them ?" 
 
 • "I believe — I left them in the nursery — yes, I 
 
 ^ did, mamma ; but I'll go and put them up this min- 
 
 ^ute." 
 
 ^ " Stay," said her mother ; " it is too late. You 
 left them on the window-seat ; and little Henry, in 
 lifting his hobby-horse down, overturned them : 
 they are broken." 
 
 t4 Brr,k2n, mamma ! I am very sorry " 
 
4 JULTA ROSCOE. 
 
 " Yes, Julia, I believe you are sorry ; but make 
 this sorrow of use to you. It is true the broken 
 cups can not be restored ; but let it be a warning 
 to you in future. If you indulge this careless dis- 
 position, you will not only suffer from it yourself, 
 but it will be a constant source of trouble to 
 others." 
 
 " mamma ! I will mind — indeed I will," cried 
 Julia, throwing her little arms round her mother's 
 neck : " only forgive me this once, I'll promise" — 
 
 " No, Julia," said her mother, kissing her, " I 
 exact no rash promises, for a habit is not conquer- 
 ed in a day : only do your best to improve, and I 
 shall be satisfied." 
 
 Time passed on ; Julia grew older, and no very 
 bad effects resulted from her carelessness. Her 
 mother gladly hoped that the habit was conquered ; 
 (>ut, alas ! Julia's dolls and other toys, work-boxes, 
 &c, constantly scattered about the floor, — her torn 
 frocks and disorderly drawers, all bore woeful wit- 
 ness to the contrary. Her cloak, hat, gloves, &c. 
 were always strewed about the room, and she spent 
 more time in seeking for the things she had mislaid, 
 and had more trouble, too, than it would have cost 
 her to conquer this bad habit. 
 
 One day her father asked her to copy a manu- 
 script for him, saying, with a smile, " Try, Julia, 
 for once, if you can keep the paper clean ; it is a 
 shame to blot such good writing as yours is." 
 
 " 0, papa! there shall not be a spot upon it: 
 you know I never blot my paper when I am writ- 
 ing for you." 
 
 " Well, we shall see," said her father. 
 
 Julia did, indeed, copy it uncommonly well ; there 
 was not a stain upon it ; and she was just finishing, 
 when her sister Caroline entered the room 
 
Way 
 
 <SAEMl§g 2T&MA* 
 
 Irill'iilHlliiiiir'PIII'illi: 
 
 REPROOT 
 
 Fage 3. 
 
 WRITING 
 
 Page 4 
 
6 JULIA ROSCOE. 
 
 " 0," cried she, " is not this well written, sister 1 
 How pleased papa will be when he sees it !" 
 
 " Very neat, indeed, my dear Julia ! Have you 
 quite done ?" 
 
 " Yes, all but two or three lines. ! this pen ! 
 what an ugly D I have made ! However," cried 
 she, looking at it with complacency, " I think it is 
 the only bad letter in it." 
 
 " Now it is quite finished, then," said Caroline, 
 " I came to tell you that the old pedlar is here. I 
 would not tell you till you had finished, lest in 
 your hurry" — 
 
 " The old pedlar ! is he ?" cried Julia, starting 
 up ; and, turning abruptly, she overturned the ink- 
 stand. Her writing fortunately escaped ; but the 
 black streams flowed over Caroline's white dress, 
 and thence rolled quickly to the floor. Julia stood 
 in silent consternation, and then began to lament 
 the accident very loudly. " And your dress too, 
 Caroline ! I am so sorry : I can't think how it 
 happened. Dear me ! and your new dress too ! 
 what can I do for you ?" 
 
 Caroline, in the mean time, had been endea- 
 voring to prevent the mischief from spreading 
 farther, by taking up the inkstand and wiping the 
 carpet. She now assured Julia, with great good- 
 nature, that her dress was not spoiled ; that she 
 could easily get the stains out ; and that, if she 
 would go to the pedlar, who was waiting below, 
 she would wipe up the ink herself. 
 
 " Thank you, dear Caroline ! how good this is 
 of you !" 
 
 " But," said Caroline, as Julia was leaving the 
 room, " had you not better put your writing 
 away? My hands are covered with ink, and I 
 can not touch it.' 
 
JULIA R0SCOE. 7 
 
 " O ! never mind," cried Julia, skipping out of 
 the room ; and she was out of sight in a moment. 
 
 At tea-time her father inquired for the manu- 
 script : Julia went to fetch it ; but it could not be 
 found. At last she was obliged to return to the 
 drawing-room, and own, with much confusion, that 
 it was no where to be found. 
 
 " It must be found," said her father ; " it is of 
 great consequence. Where did you put it ?" 
 
 " I forgot to put it up," said Julia : " I left it on 
 the writing-table." 
 
 " This comes of carelessness-, Julia/' said her 
 father, in an angry tone. 
 
 Julia, in great distress, made another search for 
 the papers ; but in vain, when, as she was slowly 
 and sadly returning to her father to announce her 
 bad success, she heard light footsteps approaching, 
 and presently some one reached over her shoulder, 
 and presented the papers before her delighted eyes. 
 
 " Caroline, where could you find them ?" 
 
 11 I recollected seeing you writing on a music 
 book ; and, as soon as the thought occurred to me, 
 I went and looked through all the music books, and 
 at last found it just where you left it." 
 
 " Thank you a thousand times !" exclaimed Julia, 
 running on with far quicker and lighter steps. 
 
 " Stop, Julia," said her sister ; " one word, — if 
 you had but put it up in your desk, how much 
 trouble would have been spared !" 
 
 " Yes, it is all very true ; but I am so glad k is 
 found after all. I think my careless habit is 
 cured." Alas! no; Julia was far from being cured. 
 
 One day Julia's father said, " I am going to see 
 an iron-foundry this morning ; and, as the process 
 of moulding is curious, I will take you with me. I 
 am going directly ; so net ready." 
 
a 
 
 JAIEHEJlSg OTZJL&. 
 
 CARELESSNESS. 
 
 Page 4. 
 
JULIA ROSCOE. 9 
 
 Julia was quite delighted. Caroline, more trail 
 <mil in her joy, cheerfully left the room to put on 
 her hat and cloak ; she then returned into the par- 
 lor ; and Julia soon came running down stairs, ex- 
 claiming, " Caroline ! Caroline ! have you seen 
 my gloves ?" 
 
 " .No," said Caroline. 
 
 "T'hen they are certainly lost ; for I have look- 
 ed for them every where." 
 
 " I will lend you a pair," said her sister. 
 
 " No, Caroline," said her mother ; " Julia must 
 take the consequences of her negligence. Take 
 your choice, Julia : either go without your gloves, 
 or remain at home." 
 
 As she finished speaking, the door opened, and 
 Julia's father entered. " Come, girls, are you 
 ready ?" Caroline rose ; and Julia, in confusion, 
 silently followed. 
 
 " Julia, where are your gloves ? said her father. 
 
 She has lost them," answered her mother ; 
 M but I have given her leave to go." 
 
 Julia colored deeply. 
 
 " O careless Julia !" said her father. 
 
 It was a cold frosty morning; and bitterly did 
 Julia feel the want of her warm-lined gloves : in 
 fact, the cold she experienced was so severe, and 
 the shame she suffered, in appearing with uncov- 
 ered hands, was so unpleasant, that poor Julia had 
 
 little enjoyment in her visit to the foundry. 
 • * * * • 
 
 * . * . * * 
 
 One night the family were alarmed by the cry of 
 
 " fire !" One of the servants said she had been 
 awakened by the flames. On examination, it was 
 found that the fire originated in the library, and was 
 rapidly spreading to the next room. The only per- 
 l* 
 
10 JULIA ROSCO£ 
 
 son in danger was little Henry, who slept in this 
 small room. Julia's father was in another part oi 
 the house procuring water, and giving directions to 
 the servants : her mother, half fainting, could hard- 
 ly support herself; and the servants all recoiled 
 with horror. Caroline turned pale and trembled. 
 Julia alone, unappalled by the idea of dangej| re- 
 solved to save him or perish. A moment's delay 
 might be fatal : she caught a blanket, wrapped it 
 around her slender form, and darted through the 
 fire. In a few minutes, she appeared again, carry- 
 ing her brother in her arms. She arrived safe on 
 the landing, and gave him to his mother. 
 
 It was now the dawn of day, and the fire was 
 at length completely extinguished, without having 
 caused so much damage as had been apprehended. 
 The family were all assembled together, and they 
 began to busy themselves in conjectures of what 
 could have occasioned the fire. Julia's father said 
 he had been examining some papers, and had pro- 
 bably let a spark drop among them : M however," 
 added he, " whatever occasioned it, I am sure our 
 best thanks are due to Julia for her noble and cour- 
 ageous conduct. Who would think that one so 
 young, possessed such spirit and presence of mind!" 
 Her mother and sister eagerly joined in praising 
 Julia, who received their praises with modest plea- 
 sure ; but suddenly she turned very pale. 
 
 " I know," she cried : she could sa^ no more ; 
 her voice faltered, and she could hardly stand. 
 
 Caroline supported her, and said, u Julia ! deal 
 Julia ! you have burned yourself, I fear." 
 
 " No," said she, " but I was the cause of the 
 fire. I was reading in the study very late, and 
 sitting bv the table, between the windows. Before 
 
THE OBSTINATE GIRL. 11 
 
 I went to bed, I fetched little Henry's candle ; for 
 Nurse was ill. I took it with me and left my own 
 in the study. I forgot it : it was a windy night : 
 the window curtains" — She said no more, but b*irst 
 into tears. 
 
 Her father and mother saw that there was no 
 need of reproaches : she felt sufficiently, and mc ire 
 because her parents judiciously refrained from ; 11 
 blame. From that day, Julia was, indeed, curea ; 
 she exerted herself much at iirst ; and, at last, i 
 became as habitual to her to be careful, prudent 
 and orderly, as it had once been to be careless 
 forgetful and negligent. 
 
 THE OBSTINATE GIRL 
 
 A FAMILY STORY. 
 
 My grand mother was left a widow, with a large 
 young family. She endeavored to bring them up 
 "in the way they should go, that when they grew 
 old they might not depart from it." These words, 
 my young readers, you will find in the proverbs of 
 that wisest of men, Solomon, which are so pleasant 
 to read, thajt when I was young, like many of you, 
 I committed many of the chapters to memory — not 
 as a task, but as a pleasure. Now my grandmother's 
 father was a pious minister of the gospel, and like 
 nis divine master, he had not only preached the 
 gospel to his flock and his family, but both by pre- 
 cept and example he aimed at imitating his godlike 
 
V2 
 
 HUNGER AND OBSTINACY. Fage 13. J 
 
 \ 
 
 m<STOj& Aim FH'inEiBo 
 
 BATTLE OF THE BEACH. Fage 14 £ 
 
 M 
 
THE OBSTINATE GIRL. 13 
 
 qualities, and was scrupulously attentive to the edu- 
 cation of his children. My grandmother was help- 
 ed one day at dinner to a leg of fowl, which she 
 refused to eat, and got in a pet, because her father 
 would not give her the breast — this was very 
 naughty conduct, both towards her heavenly father, 
 whose blessing had been invoked on the meat be- 
 fore her, and towards her earthly parent, whose 
 authority and better judgment she thus attempted to 
 resist. But what do you think her good father did ? 
 I will tell you — he ordered the leg to be laid by for 
 supper, and forbade Miss from being supplied with 
 any food until she consented to eat it. Miss contin- 
 ued obstinate for nearly all the next day, but in the 
 evening she eagerly asked for the despised leg, 
 begged pardon and never offended again— being 
 made sensible, that she should be grateful and thank- 
 ful to the Giver of all good, for so many more of the 
 good things of this life, with which she was provi- 
 ded, than thousands of her fellow creatures were 
 blessed with. I remember children, when a plate 
 of bread and butter, or of cake, was handed to me, 
 I was obliged to take the piece next to me, without 
 choosing, and am grateful to the memory of my dear 
 parents, for requiring me to do so, and so will all 
 good boys and girls, when they grow up to be men 
 and women, be thankful for their fathers, mothers, 
 or friends, who take the trouble to instruct them in 
 what is right, and not only in great, but what might 
 seem to them, trifling matters. 
 
14 
 
 HECTOR AND PETER, 
 
 OR THE BATTLE ON THE BEACH. 
 
 "Begone, you little ragged urchin, — you have no 
 right to come prawning on the sands before our 
 villa, and, if I find you here again, you shall ieel 
 my horsewhip about your shoulders !" 
 
 This threat was uttered by Master Hector Le- 
 brun, a young gentleman about ten years of age. 
 The boy he threatened was rather younger than 
 himself, but this was no imputation upon his cour- 
 age, for Peter Bluff was quite as tall, and, as the 
 event proved, more than a match for the proud 
 Hector Lebrun. 
 
 Peter Bluff was a good-natured, quick-witted boy, 
 and answered Hector's threat with a loud laugh, 
 telling him that the beach was free to every one, 
 and that he should fish for prawns wherever he 
 thought there was a chance of catching them ; 
 " and, as for your horsewhip," continued Peter, 
 " you had better keep that at home, or you may, 
 perhaps, bring a whip for your own back !" 
 
 " You insolent ragmuffin," cried Hector, in a 
 rage, "do you dare to talk in this way to the son of 
 a gentleman, a captain in the army, while your 
 father is only a dirty, half-starved fisherman ! li 
 you don't be gone without another word, I'll beat 
 you till you are black and blue." 
 
 " Poh ! poh !" said Peter, " I do'nt care a straw 
 for your threats, and I shall stay here as long as I 
 please, in spite of the son of a gentleman /" 
 
 This sneer so enraged Hector, that he assailed 
 Peter with great fury, while the latter defended 
 himself most gallantly, knocking Master Hector 
 
HECTOR AND PETER. 15 
 
 flat on his back at the first onset. How long the 
 battle would have continued, or which of the heroes 
 would have finally been the victor, can not be told, 
 for in the very heat of the encounter, the voice of 
 Captain Lebrun put an end to the combat. 
 
 " Cease fighting this instant, I command you 
 both," said he. 
 
 The two boys, panting for breath, ceased at his 
 bidding, and each was eager to excuse himself and 
 blame his opponent. 
 
 " Silence !" said Captain Lebrun ; " there is no 
 occasion for either of you to explain the cause of 
 your quarrel. I was sitting in the veranda, and 
 overheard the whole of it. Hector, you were the 
 aggressor ; you had no right to threaten Peter, or 
 upbraid him for his poverty ; but as he has proved 
 that he has the power to protect himself, and, if I 
 may judge from your appearance, to punish you for 
 your folly, I will say no more about it. Come, 
 Peter, my boy, Hector is sorry for what he said ; 
 here is a shilling for you, my brave fellow : when 
 Hector is a year or two older, he will be ashamed 
 of boasting of his own riches, or insulting honest 
 poverty." 
 
 The kindness of Captain Lebrun subdued the 
 sturdy Peter ; his eyes filled with tears, and he de- 
 clared if it was displeasing to the Captain, he would 
 never prawn in front of the villa again. 
 
 " No, no, Peter; prawn where you like, my brave 
 boy, the beach is open to all," said the Captain ; 
 then, turning to the mortified Hector, he continued, 
 " do not stand crying there, but shake hands with 
 Peter, and let him go about his business." 
 
 ** He knocked me down," cried Hector, " and I 
 can not forgive him." 
 
16 HECTOR AND PETER. 
 
 " For shame, boy ; you were the aggressor, and 
 Peter has forgiven your petulance, while you retain 
 your anger !" 
 
 " I will shake hands with him now, papa, be- 
 cause you wish it, but when I am a man I'll — " 
 
 " Treat him as an old friend I hope," said the 
 Captain, finishing the half uttered sentence, "and 
 laugh at the battle on the beach. Good day, Peter !" 
 
 The crest-fallen Hector followed his father into 
 the villa, and Peter made the best of his way to 
 his parents' hut upon the beach, where he trium- 
 phantly displayed the shilling which the Captain had 
 given him as the reward of valor. 
 
 A i^ew days after the occurrence I have just related, 
 Captain Lebrun received an order from the govern- 
 ment to attend at the War-office at Paris upon busi- 
 ness of importance, which obliged him ultimate- 
 ly to take up his residence in that city ; and, 
 when Hector arrived at the proper age, he was 
 placed as a pupil in the celebrated Polytechnic 
 school, and gained great approbation from the learn- 
 ed professor of that establishment for his perseve- 
 rance and attainments. At the age of eighteen, he 
 was rewarded by a commission in the French army, 
 and at his own solicitation was attached to a regi- 
 ment then under orders to join the expedition 
 against Algiers. 
 
 It is unnecessary for my tale that I should de- 
 scribe the city of Algiers, or give an account of 
 the embarkation and landing of the troops that were 
 sent to take the place. It is sufficient for me to 
 say that Hector Lebrun proved himself a most ac- 
 tive and useful officer, and that, previous to the 
 storming of the city, it was considered necessary 
 that a strong fortress which commanded one of the 
 
HECTOR AND PETER. 17 
 
 principal entrances to the city, should be got pos- 
 session of, and the regiment in which Hector 
 served, was ordered to undertake this dangerous 
 operation. The Algerines defended the fort with 
 great bravery, and, as they were excellent marks- 
 men, aimed particularly at the French officers. So 
 many of them were killed, that Hector found him- 
 self the senior officer of the regiment. So de- 
 structive had been the fire of the enemy, and so 
 great the loss sustained by the French, that the sol- 
 diers were about to shrink from the contest. Hec- 
 tor gallantly rallied the men, and by bravely ascend- 
 ing the scaling ladder which led to the place from 
 whence proceeded the most determined defense, 
 he raised the drooping courage of the soldiers, and 
 incited them to make one more effort. He was 
 eagerly followed by the troops, and in a few min- 
 utes gaining footing, the French flag waved tri 
 umphantly over the battlement, and the victory ap- 
 peared secure. At this moment, however, the gates 
 of the city were thrown open, and a numerous body 
 of Algerines attacked the besiegers of the fort. 
 The French soldiers were panic-struck at the ap- 
 pearance of this fresh reinforcement, and being 
 greatly exhausted by their former exertions, made 
 a hasty retreat, leaving Hector and the few brave 
 fellows who followed him into the fortress, in the 
 hands of the enraged Algerines, who would have 
 putthem to instant death, had not the Algerine chief, 
 in the hope of making an advantage of his prison- 
 ers, rescued them from the fury of his soldiers. 
 Hector was separated from his companions, and 
 conducted to a dungeon on that side of the fortress 
 nearest the sea. 
 
 Worn out with the extraordinary fatigue which 
 he had undergone, Hector laid himself down on 
 
18 HECTOR AND PETER. 
 
 the cold stones, and soon fell as fast asleep as if 
 he lay upon a bed of down. He was awakened 
 at day-dawn, on the following morning, by the 
 thunder of artillery, and from the tremendous uproar 
 on all sides of the fortress, he concluded that 
 the French were making the grand attack upon the 
 city. In a few hours the firing ceased, and Hec- 
 tor began to search about the apartment for water 
 tc allay his raging thirst. He could find none 
 at all. All was silent without, save the dashing of 
 the waves as they broke against the fortress. At 
 last, his thirst increasing till he almost gasped for 
 breath, he threw himself on the floor in despair. 
 
 How long he remained in this state he knew not ; 
 all that he could remember afterwards, was a con- 
 fused ringing in his ears, and a heavy oppressive 
 feeling, as if a huge load was laid on his chest 
 His tongue grew black and swollen, and he must 
 soon have perished, had not a little band of sailors 
 come to his relief. They broke down the door of 
 his prison, and seeing no one in it but a person 
 lying on the floor motionless, they hastily conclu- 
 ded that he was dead, and were hurrying away, when 
 their leader called them to stop, and going towards 
 the body began to examine it. Though motionless, 
 he saw that there was still life ; and taking it up in 
 his arms, he bore it from the dismal place to a more 
 open and well furnished apartment. Here he ad- 
 ministered such restoratives as he could command, 
 and had the pleasure of soon seeing his patient 
 revive so much as to be able to swallow a little wine 
 and water, which he administered with almost femi- 
 nine gentleness. 
 
 When the prisoner had so far recovered, he anx- 
 iously inquired the name of his deliverer. He was 
 
DANGEROUS SPORT. 19" 
 
 told it was Lieutenant Peter Bruff. For a long 
 time Hector was at a loss to imagine where he had 
 seen his deliverer, whose features and name were 
 both familiar to him, flitting before his eyes with 
 dreamlike indistinctness. 
 
 It was indeed Peter BrufT, the poor fisherman's 
 son, who, having entered the naval service of his 
 country, had by intelligence and good conduct 
 gradually raised himself to the rank of lieutenant , 
 and no sooner was the fortress in the power of the 
 French, than he sought and obtained permission 
 from his commanding officer, to proceed to the dun- 
 geons to release the captives, of which he well 
 knew there were many confined in those dark and 
 dismal receptacles. 
 
 When Hector discovered who his deliverer was, 
 the battle on the beach immediately rushed into his 
 recollection. Mr. BrufT, too, remembered it well, 
 and though they afterwards often laughed heartily 
 at their mimic warfare, Captain Lebrun declared 
 that the lesson which had been then taught him, he 
 had never forgotten ; and that the battle on the 
 beach had been of more use to him in his progress 
 through life, than many events of a far more lofty- 
 character. 
 
 DANGEROUS SPORT. 
 
 Poor Peter was burnt by the poker one day, 
 When he made it look pretty and red ; 
 
 For the beatiful sparks made him think it fine play. 
 To lift it as high as his head. 
 

 BURNT BY THE POKER. rage 19. 
 
 KISSING- PAPA. page 23. 
 
CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 21 
 
 But, somehow it happen'd, his finger and thumb, 
 Were terribly scorched with the heat ; 
 
 And he scream'd out aloud for his mother to come, 
 And stamped on the floor with his feet. 
 
 Now if Peter had minded his mother's command, 
 His fingers would not have been sore ; 
 
 And he promised again, as she bound up his hand, 
 To play with hot pokers no more. 
 
 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS; 
 
 OR THE BOYS AND THE SQUIRREL. 
 
 Perhaps there is no vice to which some boys arc 
 so much addicted, as cruelty to the brute creation ; 
 they seem to think that because animals can not 
 speak, they can not feel pain ; in this way an old 
 woman, when reproved for skinning eels alive, 
 said, " Oh, they don't mind it ; they are accustomed 
 to ir." My dear little reader, I was once like your- 
 self, a child, and although, thanks to a kind Cre- 
 ator for making me the son of such humane parents, 
 1 never shared in such cruel sports, I could not 
 avoid witnessing the cruelty of other boys. I will 
 now tell you what I have seen. A beautiful little 
 squirrel was on a bright sunny day frisking from 
 bough to bough, and although it could not speak, 
 plainly showed that it was happy and thankful for 
 God's blessings. At one moment, the active little 
 animal sat perched on its hinder feet, with its beau- 
 
22 CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 
 
 tiful tail upraised and curved gracefully backwards, 
 like an ostrich feather ; then, as quick as a bird, 
 it sprang upon another bough, and after skipping 
 about, it ran into a hollow in the tree ; unfortunately, 
 at this very moment, a wicked boy was passing and 
 saw where it entered ; he immediately climbed the 
 tree, plugged up the hole, and then ran to call some 
 of his comrades : at the same time, he whistled for 
 Towzer, Rock and Pompey, three fierce dogs. Two 
 of the boys brought axes, and in a few minutes, the 
 tree was lying on the ground. 
 
 I suppose you all know that squirrels destroy a 
 great deal of corn, for they open an ear at the top 
 eat what they want, and then leave the remaindei 
 to rot from exposure to the weather : indeed, far 
 mers say, that whoever kills a squirrel in the spring, 
 saves a bushel of that year's crop : — these naughty 
 boys probably thought so too ; but they were not 
 satisfied with killing poor little " Bunny," but they 
 wanted some fun ; so, with their axes, they split 
 open the tree, and took the poor squirrel prisoner ; 
 and while the dogs could scarcely be restrained, 
 one of these hard-hearted little reprobates held 
 down each of the squirrel's paws, while another 
 cut off its nails close with a knife, to prevent the 
 possibility of its climbing. He who held it then 
 flung it away ; the dogs barked, leaped upon it, and 
 in a few moments, the little frisker was torn in 
 pieces ; perhaps it might have been a mother, and 
 its little ones died of starvation. 
 
 My dear young friends, can you believe that a 
 God of goodness and mercy, and who delighted in 
 the happiness of his creatures, would look down 
 from heaven in approbation of such barbarity 1 
 I know you can Dot. 
 
23 
 PAPA'S ADVICE TO HERBERT; 
 
 OR GOOD RULES FOR LITTLE B0Y8. 
 
 My Herbert, when next 
 
 You feel rather vext, 
 And something has happen'd amiss ; 
 
 Don't set up a roar ; 
 
 Such folly give o'er, 
 And give dear papa a good kiss. 
 
 Whene'er you fall down 
 
 And crack your poor crown, 
 Pray get up as fast as you can ; 
 
 Without any crying, 
 
 Or sobbing or sighing, 
 And then we shall call you a man 
 
 When grandmamma calls, 
 
 Give up bats and balls, 
 And quickly your lesson begin; 
 
 Endeavor to spell, 
 
 And try to read well, 
 And then a good name you will win 
 
 Be gentle to sister, 
 
 And when you have kiss'd her 
 Don't give her too bearish a squeeze 
 
 But love her indeed, 
 
 And teach her to read, 
 And think it no pleasure to teas© 
 
 Don't think it fine fun 
 To scamper and run, 
 
ENIGMA. 
 
 And hide yourself under the bed ; 
 
 Take care of your ball, 
 
 For fear it should fall, 
 And break something over your head. 
 
 Your hoop you take pride 
 
 Round corners to guide, 
 And some day a top you may spin ; 
 
 Away from the pump 
 
 Immediately stump, 
 When nurse says it's time to come in. 
 
 ENIGMA. 
 
 First take a word that does silence proclaim, 
 That backwards and forwards does still spell the 
 
 same ; 
 Then add to the first a feminine name, 
 That backwards and forwards does still spell the 
 
 same ; 
 An instrument too, that lawyers oft frame, 
 That backwards and forwards does still spell the 
 
 same — 
 A very rich fruit, whose botanical name, 
 Both backwards and forwards does still spell the 
 
 same — 
 A musical note, which all will pioclaim. 
 Both backwards and forwards does still spell the 
 
 same. 
 The initials of these, when joined, form a name, 
 Which every young lady, when married, will claim, 
 And backwards and forwards does still spell the 
 
 same. 
 
$ 
 
 5£3 
 
 m 
 
 #2 
 
 5*3 
 
 sf w ■ Am 
 
 TOY AND JUVENILE BOOKS, 
 Just published by S. Babcock, IV. Haven. 
 
 C The 
 --' I he Be 
 
 Picture Alphabet, or ARC in Rhyme. 
 >k of Domestic Aniinah. 
 
 The Twelve Brothers; or the History of* Joseph. 
 
 Flowers for a Juvenile Garland. 
 
 The Village Green ; or Sports of Youth: 
 
 Th* 1 Life of Our Savior. 
 
 Passion and Punishment; a Tale for Little Girls, 
 
 Hymns for Children, in Prose. 
 
 The Sports of Childhood. 
 
 The Little Book of Trades. 
 
 Hook of Accidents; or Warnings to the Heedless. 
 L Child's First Lessons; or Infant Primer. 
 
 Simple Poetry, for Girls and Boys. 
 
 The Little Sisters ; or Emma and Caroline. 
 
 The Infant Primer; or Picture Alphabet. 
 
 Infant Hymns; designed for Young Children. 
 
 Little Rhymes, for Little Folks. 
 
 Emma and Louisa ; or Wealth and Poverty. 
 
 Easy Lessons ; or Buds and Blossoms of Learning. 
 
 Short Stories, with beautiful Pictures. 
 
 The Passionate Child ; a Story about little Ellen. 
 
 Bible History ; or Scripture Stories. 
 
 The Poetic Gift ; or Alphabet in Rhyme. 
 I Tell I ale Stories, for good Girls and Boys. 
 
 d fThe Whale, and the Perils of the Whale-Fishery. 
 | The Flock of Sheep ; or Familiar Explanations. 
 H Museum of Foreign Animals; or History of Beasts. 
 % The Child's Own Story Book; or Simple Tales. 
 •<3 Child's Own Sunday Book; or Sabbath-Day Lessons. 
 j J Sweets for Leisure Hours; or Flowers of Instruction. 
 J= » Little Lucy; or the Pleasant Day. 
 
 Little Helen ; or a Day in the Life of a Naughty Girl. 
 The Sun-Flower; or Poetical Blossoms. 
 Book of Bible Stories. 
 Little Lotsous for Little Learners. 
 V History and Anecdotes of the Elephant. , 
 C Animal Riogrnphv: or Book of Natural History. 
 Mary Richmond ;" a Day in the Life of a Spoiled Child. 
 Instruction atid Amusement for the Young. 
 The Little Forget- Me-Not. A Token of Love. 
 The Snow-Drop: a Collection of Nursery Rhymes. 
 The Little Picture Bible. 
 
 Poetic Gift ; containing Barbauld's Hymns in Verse. 
 The Gift of Friendship ; seasoned with Instruction. 
 S'Uct and Amusing Anecdotes of Animals. 
 1 he Ruse- Bud; or Poetic Garland. 
 The Canine Race; a brief Natural History of Dogs. 
 V. Pictures and Stories for the Young. 
 
 H