Front Cover
 Title Page
 Back Cover

Group Title: The pearl box : containing one hundred beautiful stories for young people
Title: The Pearl box
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001838/00001
 Material Information
Title: The Pearl box containing one hundred beautiful stories for young people
Physical Description: 160 p., <1> leaf of plates : ill. ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Hobbs, C ( Stereotyper )
Hewes, John Milton, 1803-1883 ( Printer )
Cottrell, George W., d. 1895 ( Publisher )
United States Foundry ( Stereotyper )
Publisher: G.W. Cottrell
Place of Publication: Boston
Manufacturer: Stereotyped at the United States Foundry by C. Hobbs : Printed by J.M. Hewes
Publication Date: c1851
Subject: Love -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Nature -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Moral tales -- 1851   ( local )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1851   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1851
Genre: Moral tales   ( local )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Boston
General Note: Includes some poems.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
Statement of Responsibility: by a pastor.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001838
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002234320
oclc - 45534197
notis - ALH4739
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front 1
        Front 2
        Front 3
        Front 4
    Title Page
        Front 7
        Front 8
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
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        Page 50
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        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
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        Page 79
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        Page 82
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        Page 85
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        Page 88
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        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 148a
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
    Back Cover
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
Full Text


The Baldwin Library

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Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1851
in the Clerk's office of the Distrct Uourt of

C. HOBBS, Proprietor.

81 Cornhill, Boston.


IN preparing this volume of stories for young
readers, the writer has had in view their instruction,
by presenting to them their station in a familiar and
instructive story. Each story contains a moral, and
teaches principles by which the youth should be
governed in their private, social and public rel&
tions in life. In the perusal of these stories, we
hope to accomplish our great object, of aiding
young persons to pursue the peaceful and pleasant
path of duty-to render them more useful in the
world, and to grow wiser and happier in the path
of life.


A LITTLE boy, by the name of Bertie, was taken very ill,
and for sometime continued to grow weaker until he died.
A few hours before his death he revived up, and his first
request was to be bathed in the river; but his mother per-
suaded him to be sponged only, as the river water would
be too cold for his weak frame. After his mother had
,sponged him with water, he desired to be dressed; when
his mother dressed him in his green coat and white collar,
an& seated him at the table with all his books and worldly
treasures around him. As he sat there, one would have
thought that he was about to commence a course of study;
and yet in the marble paleness of his features, and in the
listless and languid eye, there was evidence that life in the
boy was like an expiring taper, flickering in the socket.
He soon asked to go out in his little carriage. His grand-
father, whom he very much loved, placed him in it, and


carefully avoiding every stone, drew him to a spot com-
manding the entire landscape. The tide was up, and the
- sun was shining on the deep blue waters, and bathing the
distant mountains and the green meadows in liquid gold.
The gardens and orchards around were gay in the rich
crimson blossoms of the apple tree; the air was filled with
the sweet fragrance of flowers, and the birds were singing
beautifully, when little Bertie looked for the last time on
the scenes of earth. He could not remain long, and was
soon taken back to the little parlor, where he sat on the
sofa, resting his elbows on the table. It was not long be-
fore the little boy died. But he was very happy. Among
his last words were these, addressed to his little sister three
years old: "Well, Emmie, very ill-me going to Jesus."
"Oh, mamma, Emmie loves her Saviour."


A BRIGHT eyed boy was sleeping upon a bank of blossom-
ing clover. The cool breeze lifted the curls from his brow,



and fanned with downy wings his quiet slumbers, while Ie
lay under the refreshing shade of a large maple tree.
The birds sang to him during his happy hours of sleep.
By and by he awoke, and a beautiful gold robin sat on the
spray, and sung a song of joy. The boy reached out his
hands to secure the prize, but the robin spread his golden
wings and soared away. He looked after it with a longing
gaze, and when it disappeared from his sight, he wept
aloud. At this moment~ a form of light approached, and
took the hands of the child and pointed upwards; and he
saw the bird soaring in freedom, and the sun shining upon
its burnished plumes. Then the shining one said: "Do
you love that beautiful bird?" In the midst of his tears
the child replied, Oh, yes." "Then," said the angel,
"shall it not wing its flight from flower to flower and be
happy, rather than to dwell in a prison with thee? "
Then the streams and flowering vales of Elysium, that
breathe the pure air of freedom, spake: "Wouldst thou
bring her back to thee, and make her a prisoner? Dry
up thy tears, and let thy song be, 'Stay not here, but
speed thy flight, O bright one, and snuff the mellow air
of freedom.' .God made the birds to be happy in their
short existence, and ought we to deprive them of their own


elements of happiness, and take from them the freedom
which they enjoy ?"


A LITTLE girl, by the name of Sarah Dean, was taught
the precepts of the Bible by her mother. One day she
came to her mother very much delighted, to show her some
plums that a friend had given her. The mother said to
her: "Your friend was very kind, and has given you a
great many." Yes," replied Sarah, she was, and she
gave me more than these, but I have given some away."
The mother asked to whom she had given them; when the
child replied: I gave them to a girl that pushes me off
the path, and makes faces at me." Upon being asked
why she gave them to her, she answered: Because I
thought that would make her know that I wished to be
kind to her, and perhaps she will not be unkind and rude
to me again." This was true. The rude girl was after-
wards very good to Sarah, and felt very sorry that she had
treated her unkindly. How truly did the little girl obey
the command, overcome evil with good."



IT was on a Sabbath eve, when at a friend's house, we
were all sitting in the piazza, conversing about the efforts
which were being made for the poor heathen, and the num-
ber of Testamients.which were being sent to them.
Father," said little Harriet, do the little heathen
children wish to learn to read the New Testament ? "
") yes, my child, many of them do," said the father.
But have they all got Testaments if they did know
how to read 1?" No, my love; few of them have ever
heard about the Testament, about God, or about Jesus
Christ." "Will half a dollar buy one ?" said Harriet.
" 0 yes, my child."
Then," said Harriet, may I sell anything I have,
if I can get the money ? Her father told her she might.
Now, every child has some favorite toy. Harriet's was
a beautiful tame gray squirrel. It would eat from her
hands, attend her in her rambles, and sleep on her pillow.
She called its name Jenny. It was taken sick, and the
little girl nursed it with care, but it at last died in her lap.


Little Harriet wept sadly about it, and her father tried
to console her, and told her not to feel so.
Ah," said she, you know, father, you told me that
I might sell anything I had to buy a Testament for the
heathen children, and I was going to sell my pretty squir-
rel to Mr. Smith, who said he would give me half a dollar
for it; but now my Jenny is dead." The Father then
put a silver dollar into Harriet's hand, and she dried her
tears, rejoicing that Jenny's death would be the means
of his little daughter having two or three Testaments in-
stead of one.


A TERAOaC in a Sabbath School promised to supply all
the children in his class with a catechism, who had none.
One of the little girls went home from the school after
the books were given out, and said :
"Mamma, if I had told a lie to-day, I would have got
a catechism."


I think that very stange, Eliza; for the Sabbath School
is no place for lies, and if you could be so wicked, I know
your teacher would not have rewarded you for it."
"Mother," said Eliza, "I tell nothing but the truth;
and now I will explain it.
You know I went to school this morning with the
other girls. They told me on the way how their mother
had bought each of them a new catechism on last market
day, and they said, if I once saw how pretty their books
were, I would not look at my old one any more. Our
teacher asked us all, when we went in, if we had any cate-
chisms, and those who said they had not, received one
from the teacher as a present. Jane, after all she told
me, by the way, denied that she had any, and Lizzy did the
same. But when he asked me, I told him I had one at
home; but if I had said no, I would have got a new one."
Her mother then told her that she should be rewarded
for not telling a lie by giving her a new book and a new



A POOR Arabian of the desert was one day asked, how
he came to be assured that there was a God.
In the same way," he replied, "that I am enabled to
tell by a print impressed on the sand, whether it was a
man or beast that passed that way."
THANKFULNESS.-Walking along Bishopgate street one
morning, I saw two men standing as if amazed at some-
thing that had happened.
Pray, gentlemen," said I, what is the matter '
One of them informed me that a genteely dressed man
had hastily come up to him, and tapping him on the shoul-
der, had said:
"Sir, did you ever thank God for your reason "
"No," said I, not particularly."
"Well," said he, "do it now, for I have lost mine;"
when he marched off with great speed.
HONESTY.-An honest boy, whose sister was sick and
the family in want, found a wallet containing fifty dollars.


The temptation was great to use the money; but he re-
solved to find the owner. He did so; when the owner,
learning the circumstances of the family, gave the fifty
dollars for their comfort. He took the boy to live with
him. That boy is a prosperous merchant in Ohio.
THE BOY AND HIS MABBLES.-One Sunday a lady called
to her little boy, who was shooting marbles on the pave-
ment, to come into the house.
Don't you know you shouldn't be out there, my son ?
Go into the back yard if you want to play marbles; it is
"Yes, mother; but aint it Sunday in the back yard'?


A LITTLE boy who had been out early in the morning
playing on the lawn before his father's house, while the
dew drops lay on the grass, was soon after seen returning
to the spot, and finding them alJ gone, he sat down to
weep. His father asked him why he wept.

* n"


Because," said he, the beautiful dew drops are gone."
His father tried to soothe him, but he continued weep-
ing. Just then a cloud passed over, and on the cloud the
beautiful rainbow had cast its arch.
"There, see, my son," said the father, "there are all
your dew drops; the sun has taken them up only to set
them forth in greater brightness in the sky."

0 father, dear father, why pass they away,
The dew drops that sparkled at dawning of day,
That glittered like stars in the light of the moon;
Oh, why are the dew drops dissolving so soon ?
Does the sun in his wrath chase their brightness away,
As if nothing that's lovely might live for a day ?
The moonlight is faded, the flowers still remain,
But the dew drops have shrunk to their petals again."

", My child," said the father, look up to the skies;
Behold that bright rainbow, those beautiful dyes,
There, there are the dew drops in glory reset,
'Mid the jewrels of heaven they are glittering yet.
Oh, are we not taught by each beautiful ray
To mourn not earth's fair things, though passing away ?
For though youth of its beauty and brightness be riven,
All that withers on earth blooms more sweetly in heaven.
Look up," said the father, look up to the skies--
Hope sits on the wing* of those beautiful dyes."



MY young readers may have heard about the poor peo-
ple in London. The following story is a specimen of the
hardships of many young girls in that famous city.
Two young women occupied one small room of about
ten feet by eight. They were left orphans, and were
obliged to take care of themselves. Many of the articles
of furniture left them had been disposed of to supply the
calls of urgent want. In the room was an old four post
bedstead, with curtains almost worn out, one mattress with
two small pillows, a bolster that was almost flat, three old
blankets and cotton sheets, of coarse description, three
rush-bottom chairs, an old claw table, a chest of draws,
with a few battered band-boxes on the top of it, a misera-
ble bit of carpet before the fire-place, a wooden box for
coals, a little tin fender, and an old poker. What there
was, however, was kept clean, the floor and yellow paint
was clean, and the washing tub which sat in one corner of
the room.



It was a bitter cold night, the wind blew and shook
the window, when a young girl of about eighteen sat by
the tallow candle, which burned in a tin candlestick, at 12
o'clock at night, finishing a piece of work with the needle
which she was to return next morning. Her name was
Lettice Arnold. She was naturally of a cheerful, hopeful
temper, and though work and disappointment had faded the
bright colors of hope, still hope buoyed up her spirits.
"Her sister Myra was delicate, and lay on the mattress
on that night, tossing about with suffering, unable to rest.
At last Lettice says to her:-
'Poor Myra, can't you get to sleep ?'
It is so cold,' was the reply ; 'and when will you
have done and come to bed ? '
"' One quarter of an hour more, Myra, and I shall
have finished may work, and then I will throw my clothes
over your feet, and I hope you will be a little warmer.'
Myra sighed, and lifted up her head, and leaning upon
her arm watched the progress of her sister as she plied
the needle to her work.
"'How slowly,' said Myra, 'you do get along. It is
one o'clock, and you have not finished yet.'
"' I cannot work fast, Myra, and neatly too; my hands


are not so delicate and nimble as yours,' and smiling a lit-
tle, she added : Such swelled clumsy things, I cannot get
over the ground nimbly and well at the same time. Yow
are a fine race horse, and I a drudging pony. But I shal!
soon be through.'
Myra once more uttered a sigh and cried :
Oh, my feet are dreadful cold.'
Take this bit of flannel,' said Lettice, 'and let me
wrap them up.'
"' Nay, you will want it,' she replied.
S( Oh, I have only five minutes to sit up, and I can
wrap this piece of carpet round mine,' said Lettice.
And she laid down her work and went to the bed, and
wrapped her sister's icy feet in the flannel, and then sat
down and finished her task. How glad was Lettice to
creep to the mattress and to lay her aching limbs upon it
A hard bed and scanty covering in a cold night are
keenly felt. She soon fell asleep, while her sister tossed
and murmured on account of the cold.
Lettice awoke and drew her own little pillow from
under her head, and put it under her sister's, and tried
every way to nake her sister comfortable, and she partly



succeeded; and at last Myra, the delicate suffering cres-
ture, fell asleep, and Lettice slumbered like a child."
How thankful ought we to be for kind parents, a com-
fortable home, and a good fire in a cold night. I will tell
you in my next story what Lettice did with her work.


EARLY in the morning, before it was light, and while
the twilight gleamed through the curtainless windows, Let-
tiee was up dressing herself by the aid of the light which
gleamed from the street lamp into the window. She combed
her hair with modest neatness, then opened the draw
with much precaution, lest she should disturb poor Myra,
who still slumbered on the hard mattress drew out a shawl
and began to fold it as if to put it on.
"Alas !" said Lettice, this will not do it is thread-
bare, time-worn, and has given way in two places." She
turned it, and unfolded it, but it would not do. It was so
shabby that she was actually ashamed to be'seen with it in
the street. She put it aside and took the liberty of bor-


rowing Myra's, who was now asleep. She knew Myra
would be awful cold when she got up, and would need it.
But she must go with the work that morning. She thought
first of preparing the fire, so that Myra, when she arose,
would only have to light the match; but as she went to
the box for coal, she saw, with terror, how low the little
store of fuel was, and she said to herself, we must have
a bushel of coal to-day- better to do without meat than
fire such weather as this." But she was cheered with the
reflection that she should receive a little more for her work
that day than what she had from other places. It had
been ordered by a benevolent lady who had been to some
trouble in getting the poor woman supplied with needle
work so that they should receive the full price. She had
worked for private customers before, and always received
more pay from them than from the shops in London, where
they would beat down the poor to the last penny.
Poor Lettice went to the old band-box and took out a
shabby old bonnet she looked at it, and sighed, when she
thought of the appearance she must make; for she was
going to Mrs. Danvers, and her work was some very nice
linen for a young lady about to be married.
Just at this moment she thought of the contrast between



all the fine things that young lady was to have, and her
own destitution. But her disposition was such as not to
cause her to think hard of others who had plenty while
she was poor. She was contented to receive her pay from
the wealthy, for her daily needle work. She felt that
what they had was not taken from her, and if she could
gain in her little way by receiving her just earnings from
the general prosperity of others, she would not complain.
And as the thought of the increased pay came into her
mind, which she was to receive that day, she brightened
up, shook the bonnet, pulled out the ribbons, and made
it look as tidy as possible, thinking to herself that after
buying some fuel she might possibly buy a bit of ribbon
and make it look a little more spruce, when she got her
Lettice now put on her bonnet, and Myra's shawl, and
looking into the little three-penny glass which hung on
the wall, she thought she might look quite tidy after all.
The young lady for whom she made the linen lived about
twenty miles from town, but she had come in about this
time, and was to set off home at nine o'clock that very morn-
ing. The linen was to have been sent in the night before, but
Lettice had found it impossible to finish it. This was why



she was obliged to start so early in the morning. She
now goes to the bed to tell Myra about the fire, and that
she had borrowed her shawl, but Myra was sound asleep,
so she did not disturb her, but stepped lightly over the
floor and down stairs, for it was getting late, and she must
be gone. Read the next story, and you will be deeply in-
terested in the result.


I MUST tell you who were Lettice and Myra. They
were the daughters of a clergyman, who held the little
vicarage of Castle Rising. But misfortune, which some-
times meets the wise and good, reduced the family to poor
circumstances. After the parents' decease, Lettice and
Myra located in London, for the purpose of doing needle
work for a living.
We said in the last story, that Lettice had entered the
street and was on her way with the work she had finished


for the young lady. It was a cold morning, the snow blew,
and the street was slippery. She could scarcely stand -
her face was cold, and her hands so numbed that she could
scarcely hold the parcel she carried. The snow beat upon
her poor bonnet, but she comforted herself with the idea
that she might be supposed to have a better bonnet at
home. She cheerfully trudged along, and at last entered
Grosvenor Square, where the lamps were just dying away
before the splendid houses, while the wind rushed down
the Park colder than ever. A few boys were about the
only people yet to be seen about, and they laughed at her
as she held her bonnet down with one hand, to prevent its
giving way before the wind, while she carried her bundle
and kept her shawl from flying up with the other.
At last she entered Green street, and came to the house
of the kind lady who had furnished her and many others
with work; raised the knocker, and gave one humble
knock at the door. She had never been at the house be-
fore, but she had sometimes had to go to other genteel
houses where she had been met with incivility by the do-
But "like master, like man," is a stale old proverb,
and full of truth. The servant came to the door. He


was a grave old man about ffty. His countenance was
full of kind meaning, and his manners so gentle, that be-
fore hearing her errand, observing how cold she looked,
bade her come in and warm herself at the hall stove.
"I have come," said Lettice, with the young lady's
work--I had not time to come last night, but I hope I
have not put her to any inconvenience I started before
light this morning."
Well, my dear, I hope not," said the servant, but it
was a pity you could not get it done last night Mrs.
Danvers likes to have people exact to the moment. How*
ever, I dare say it will be all right.''
As Reynolds, the servant-man, entered the drawing.
room, Lettice heard a voice, "Is it come at last!" And
the young lady, who thus enquired, wa Catherine Melia,
who was then making a early breast before a noble
blazing fire.
"Has the woman brought her bill" asked Mrs. Dw
I will go and ask," said the servant "Stay, ak her
to come up. I should like to enquire how she is getting
along, this cold weather."


Reynolds obeyed, and soon Lettice found herself in a
warm, comfortable breakfast room.
G "Good morning," said Mrs. Danvers. I am sorry you
have had such a cold walk this morning. I am sorry you
could not come last night. This young lady is just leaving,
and there is barely time to put up thb things." Catherine
(for this was the young lady's name) had her back turned
to the door quietly continuing her breakfast, but when the
gentle voice of Lettice replied:
"Indeed, madam, I beg your pardon, I did my very
best "-Catherine started, looked up and rose hastily from
her chair; Lettice, advancing a few steps, exclaimed-
And Catherine exclaimed: "It is--it is you!" and
coming forward and taking her by the hand, she gazed with
astonishment at the wan face and miserable attire of the
work-woman. You," she kept repeating. "Lettice !
Lettice Arnold! Good Heavens Where is your father ?
your mother ? your sister ? "
"Gone," said the poor girl, all gone but poor Myra!"
"And where is she ? And you, dear Lettice, how have
you come to this ? "
Such was the unexpected meeting of these two pr
7 r.



who were once children of the same village of Castle Ris-
ing. Lettice had been working forherschoolmate, Cather-
ine Melvin. The result was a happy one, and it was not
long before, by the kindness of Catherine, that the two
orphan girls were situated pleasantly in life. But as you
will wish to know how all this came about, I will give you
the circumstances in another story.


LETTIC'S father was a man of education, a scholar, a
gentleman, and had much power in preaching. He receiv-
ed one hundred and ten pounds per year for his services.
Her father's illness was long and painful, and the family
ware dependant on others for assistance.
"We at last closed his eyes," said Lettice, "in deep
sorrow." He used to say to himself, It is a rough road,
but it leads to a good place."
S After his funeral, the expenses exhausted all that was
I ft their money only a few pounds were left when



the furniture was sold, and "we were obliged," said Let-
tice, "to give up the dear little personage. It was a
sweet little place. The house was covered all over with
honeysuckles and jessmnines; and there was the flower gar-
den in which I used to work, and.which made me so hale
and strong, and aunt Montague need to say I was worth a
whole bundle of fine ladies.
It was a sad day when we parted from it. My poor
mother! How she kept looking back, striving not to cry,
and poor Myra was drowned in tears.
"Then we afterwards came to London. A person whom
we knew in the village had a son who, was employed in one
of the great linen warehouses, and he promised to try to
get us needlework. So we came to London, took a small
lodging, and furnised it with the remnant of our furni-
tre. Here we worked fourteen hours a day apiece, and
we could only gain between three and four shillings each.
At last mother died, and then all went; she died and had
& pauper's funeraL"
From this room the orphan girl removed soon after
their mother's deceased, and located among the poor of
Marylebone street, where Mrs. Danvers accidently met
with the two sisters, in one of her visits among the poor,


and for whom she obtained the work which led to the un-
expected meeting related in the previous story.

A HoRSE is a noble animal, and is made for the service
of man. No one who has tender feelings can bear to see
the horse abused. It is wicked for any one to do so. A
horse has a good memory, and he will never forget a kind
master. Jonas Carter is one of those boys who likes to
take care of a horse. His father gave Jonas the whole
care of an excellent animal which he purchased for his
own use. Every morning he would go into the
stable to feed and water him. As all the horses in
the neighborhood had names, Jonas gave one to his, and
called him Major. Every time he went into the stable
to take care of him, Major would whine and paw, as if his
best friend was coming to see him. Jonas kept him very
clean and nice, so that he was always ready for use at any
time of day. At night he made up his bed of straw, and
kept the stable warm in winter and cool in summer. Ms-



jor soon found that he was in the hands of a kind master,
and being well fed, and well cleansed, he would often
show how proud and nice he was, by playing with Jonas
in the yard. His young master would often let him loose
in the yard, and when Jonas started to go in, the horse,
Major, would follow him to the door, and when he turned
him into the pasture, no one could so well catch him as
Jonas; for every time he took him from the pasture, Jonas
would give him some oats; so when he saw his master
coming for him, he remembered the oats, and would come
directly to him. Some horses are very difficult to bridle,
but it was not so with Major. When Jonas came with
the bridle, Major would hold his head down, and take in
his bitts, and appear as docile as a lamb. He well knew
that Jonas never drove him hard, but always used him
kindly. Jonas was not a selfish boy; he was willing to
let his friends ride a short distance; and in the picture,
you will see him talking with one of his young friends
about his horse.
Now, children, you may be sure that a dumb animal will
remember his kind master; and if ever you own a horse,
or drive one which belongs to anothmtr be sum and treat
him kindly. And you will find this rule to work well





among yourselves. Be kind to each other, and to all
whom you meet with, and it will help you along the plea-
sant path of life, and secure to you many friends.

EDWARD FORD owned a snug little cottage with a small
farm situated about a mile from the village. When he
was married to Ellen G who was said to be one
of the best girls in the village, he took her to his nice
little home, where he had every thing around very plea-
sant and comfortable. Ellen was very industrious and
remarkable for her prudence and neatness. She spun
and churned, and tended her poultry, and would often car-
ry her butter and eggs herself to market, which greatly
added to their comfort. She had a beautiful little girl,
and they gave her the name of Lily. Things glided smooth-
ly on until Lily was sixteen. Edward was very fond
of the violin and of reading books that were not very use-
ful, and as he was very fond of music, he spent a great
deal more time in making music and playing the violin



than what his wife thought profitable. Ellen loved music,
and was willing to have him read profitable books, but all
this while she thought he might be patching up the fences
and improving the shed for the better comfort of the cattle.
Still she would not complain, hoping all the time that he
would see the necessity of being a little more industrious.
The winter came, and all through its dreary months he
was unable to work, as he was sick. And although Ellen
worked hard, yet her husband required so much of her
attention, that all her efforts availed not much to keep pov-
erty out of their cottage. When the spring came, Ellen's
husband was able to be about again, and she began to hope
that Edward would be more industrious, and they would
be able by strict economy to repair the loss occasioned by
his winter's illness, which had put them so far behind-
hand. Edward had become lazy or disheartened. Affairs
about the house continued to grow worse; his farm was ill
worked or neglected, and by the fall, his horse and oxen
had to go for necessary expenses. Ellen still kept her
cows, but it was now very little help she received from
her husband. He had been formerly one of the most tem-
perate of men, but now he spent his days from home; and
here lay Ellen's deepest sorrow. He was often at the



village tavern, wasting in senseless riot the time, health
and means that God had given him for other purposes.
Ellen felt sad, and in the next story you will see a painful
scene in the life pf


IT was now in the latter part of December two days
more and comes the season of "Merry Christmas." El-
len thought of the dreary prospect before her. As she
was thinking over her condition, and how she should man-
age affairs so as to make home comfortable, the door open-
ed, and in came Edward earlier than usual, a sober man.
With a grateful heart Ellen sat about preparing the sup-
per, and made all the evening as pleasant as she could for
The next morning earlier than usual Edward was pre-
paring to go out. The weather was bitter cold, and the
wood pile was very low. She did not like to ask Edward
to split some wood the evening before, as she did not wish
to vex him. Of late he had harshly refused her simple


requests. She, however, ventured this morning to ask
him to split a few logs, and he replied:
"Why did you not ask me when you saw me doing
nothing all last evening ? You must get along the best
way you can until night. I have engaged to work for
Squire Davis, and I shall be late unless I go at once."
To work! Have you 7 said Ellen, in a pleased and
grateful tone.
Yes; so don't detain me. I am to have a dollar and
a half a day as long as I choose to work."
How very fortunate! said Ellen.
After he was gone, Ellen busied herself in making things
comfortable for the children. It was market day, and she
must carry her heavy basket to the village for the different
families who depended upon her for their supply of fresh
butter and eggs. A year ago she had a neat little wagon
and a good horse to drive. There was something in the
mind of Ellen; what it was she could not tell a kind of
sad presentiment of something as she was preparing to
go to market. I shall tell you in the next'story what it
was. You will see that Ellen was very kind to her hus-
bar1i, anql tried every way to make him happy.



MRS. FORD had three little children Lily, Hetty, and
% dear little babe. As she was now going to market, she
told Lily, her oldest daughter, to take good care of the
baby. Lily promised to do so. It was a very cold day.
For a time the children got along very well; but soon the
wood was all burned, not a stick or chip remained; as their
father had gone away in the morning without splitting any,
so they were obliged to do the best they could. The baby
began to look as if it was cold, and Lily said:
Come, I1etty, we will go out and see if together we
cannot roll in one of those great logs."
Hetty was eleven years old. Lily put the baby in the
cradle and then went out with Hetty to roll in the log.
They rolled it up to the step, and got it part way into the
door, but, alas they could not get it further. There it
stuck in the doorway, and the door was wide open; the
wind and snow beat in from without, and the fire gradually
settled away in its embers.
Something must now be done. Hetty put on her cloak


and hood and set out for her mother; for she told them
if anything happened to be sure and come for her. Hetty
soon found her mother at the village store, and without
stopping to warm herself, she said:
0 mother, come home, for little Eddy is sick, and
Lily says it is the croup, and that he is dying. The fire
is all out, and the room is full of snow, because the big
log we tried to roll in stuck fast in the doorway."
Hetty and her mother hastened home; and as they were
crossing the street, there was her husband just entering
the tavern. She told him about little Eddy, and he pro-
mised to go for a physician and to come home immediately;
and by the time they had gone half way tome, Edward,
her husband, joined them.
They hurried along, and as they came near the cottage
there stood two of the cows, and under the shed was the
third, the old spotted cow," which Hetty thought was
in the pond when she left home. To their surprise the
log was rolled away from the door, and as Mrs. Ford
opened the door with a trembling hand, fearing her baby
was dead, there was a young man sitting by a good fire,
which he had made while Hetty was gone, with little Eddy
folded in his arms. The anxious mother bent over her


baby as he lay in the stranger's arms, and seeing his eyes
closed, she whispered:
J Is he dead ? "
He is not, he only sleeps," replied the stranger.
This young man came into the house in time to save the
baby from the cold chills of death. He was ever after a
friend to the family a means of Edward's reformation,
so that with some assistance the mortgage on the farm was
paid off, and the farm re-stocked. This stranger became
the husband of Lily, the eldest daughter.


THERE is nothing more pleasant than to see brothers and
sisters, lovely in their lives, and in all their plays kind and
obliging to each other. Mrs. Jones' three little children
were always noted for their good behaviour by all the peo-
ple in the village, and the school teacher said they were the
prettiest behaved children she ever saw, and this was say-
ing much in their praise, for her scholars were noted for
very good behavior and promptness in their recitations.



Mrs. Jones kept her children under a good discipline, but
she always gave them time and opportunities for their
pleasant plays. She would not allow them to associate
with vicious children, because "evil communications cor-
rupt good manners," and she knew her children were as
liable to fall into bad habits as any others. There were a
few vicious boys in the village where she lived who always
took delight in teasing and vexing the other children, and
sometimes these boys would try some method to break up
the children's play.
One afternoon, there being no school, Mrs. Jones gave
her little children permission to go into the lower back-
room and spend awhile in play. Away they jumped and
skipped along down stairs to the play room, with merry
hearts and smiling faces. They had not been there a long
time before they heard a very singular noise, which they
did not know what to make of. But they soon forgot it,
and continued playing with the same cheerfulness; very
soon again they heard the same noise, which sounded like
somebody's voice. The children began to be a little fright-
ened, and while little Susy stretches her hand out to
take hold of the post, and is in the act of running away.


Melly and Anna put their fingers to their lips, and listened
again to know what the noise could mean. Soon the noise
was repeated, and away they flew to their mother's arms
in such a tremor that she felt at the moment alarmed her-
self. They told their mother what had happened, and all
that night the children could not sleep.
'It was ascertained the next day that one of the bad boys
crept along in the back part of the yard where the children
were playing, and by an unnatural sound of his voice made
the noise that so alarmed the three little children. Susy,
who was the youngest, did not forget it for some time; and
all of them were afraid to go alone into the lower room for
many weeks.
This was very wrong in the bad boy; he might have
injured the children at play so they would never have
recovered from it. I have known young children to be so
frightenedas neverto forget the impressionall theirlife-time.
How much better for the boy to have been like these good
children, and joined with them in their pleasant pastimes.
Never do any thing that will give sorrow and pain to
others, but live and act towards each other while in youth,
so as to enable you to review your life with pleasure, and
to meet with the approbation of your Heavenly Father.



ONE summer day little William was sitting in the gar-
den chair beside his mother, under the shade of a large
cherry tree which stood on the grass plot in front of the
house. He was reading in a little book. After he had
been reading some time, he looked, up to his mother and
Mother, will you tell me what is the meaning of 'you
must return good for evil ?'"
His mother replied: "I will tell you a story that will
explain it.
"I knew a little boy," she said, "whose name was Ar-
thur Scott; he lived with his grandmamma, who loved him
very much, and who wished that he might grow up to be
a good man. Little arthur had a garden of his own, and
in it grew an apple tree, which was then very small, but
to his great joy had upon it two fine resy-cheeked apples,
the first ones it had produced. Arthur wished to taste of
them very much to know if they were sweet or sour; but


he was not a selfish boy, and he says to his grandmother
one morning:
"I think I shall leave my apples on the tree till my
birthday, then papa and mamma and sister Fanny will come
and see me, and we will eat them together."
A very good thought,' said his grandmother; 'and
you shall gather them yourself.'
It seemed a long time for him to wait; but the birth-
day came at last, and in the morning as soon as he was
dressed he ran into his garden to gather his apples; but
lo! they were gone. A naughty boy who aw them hang-
ing on the tree, had climbed over the garden wall and
stolen them.
"Arthur felt very sorry about losing his apples, and he
began to cry, but he soon wiped his eyes, and said to his
grandmother :
"' It is hard to lose my nice apples, but it was much
worse for that naughty boy to commit so great Jiin as to
steal them. I am sure God must be very angry with him;
und I will go and kneel down and ask God to forgive him.'
So he went and prayed for the boy who had stolen his
apples. Now, William, do you not think that was return-
ing good for evil ?"



"0, yes," said William; "'and I thank you, mother,
for your pretty story. I now understand what my new
book means." Little Arthur grew to be a man, and al-
ways bore a good name.


THERE were two men who were neighbors to each other,
living in a distant country were they had to labor hard for
the support of their families. One of them was greatly
troubled to know who would take care of his children if he
should die. But the other man was not so troubled, and
was always very cheerful, saying to his neighbor: "Ne-
ver distrust Providence."
One day as the sorrowful man was laboring in the fields,
sad and Bt down, he saw some little birds enter a bush,
go out and then return again. He went towards the bush,
and saw two nests side by side, and in both nests some lit-
tle birds, newly hatched and still without feathers. He
saw the old birds go in a number of times, and they carri-
ed in their bills food to give their little ones. I


At one time, as one of the mothers returned with her
beak full, a large vulture seized her and carried her away ;
and the poor mother, struggling vainly under its talons,
uttered piercing cries. He thought the little young birds
must certainly die, as they had now no mother to take care
of them. He felt so bad about them that he did not sleep
any that night. The next day, on returning to the fields,
he said to himself: "I will see the little ones of this poor
mother; some without doubt have already perished."
He went up to the bush, and saw that the little ones in
both nests were all alive and well He was very much
surprised at this, and he hid himself behind the bush to
see what would happen. After & little time he heard
a crying of the birds, and soon the second mother came
flying into the bush with her beak full of food, and distri-
buted it all among the little birds in both nests He now
saw that the orphan birds were as well provided for as
when their own mother was living.
In the evening, he related the whole story to his neigh-
bor, and said to him:
I will never distress myself again about who will take
care of my children, if I should die before them."
His neighbor replied: "Let us always believe, hope,



love, and pursue our course in peace. If you die before
me, I will take care of your children, and if I die before
you, you will be a father to mine; and if we are both taken
away-before our children are able to provide for themselves,
there is a Father in heaven."


I WILL tell you a true story about a robber. A gentle-
man was once travelling through a very unfrequented road,
along in a chaise, in the latter part of the day. There was
no house nor a sign of a human being there. It was a
very lonely road. Presently at a sudden turn in the road,
directly towards his horse's head, a man came out of the
woods. The gentleman was convinced by his appearance
that he 6ame for no good purpose. He immediately stop-
ped his horse, and asked the stranger to get in and ride.
The man hesitated a moment, and then stepped into the
chaise. The gentleman commenced talking with him about
the loneliness of the road, and observed that it would be
an admirable place for a robbery V any one was so dis-



posed. He proceeded to speak of robbery and criminals,
and how he thought they should be sought out and in-
structed, and if possible reformed; and that we ought to
try to convert and reform them; and then he began to tell
him what course he should take with a man who should
attempt to rob him. He told him that he should give him
all his money first, and then began to talk kindly to him,
and show the evil consequences of his course of life. He
then said:
"Yes, I would die on the spot rather than to injure a
hair on his head."
They soon came to another road, when the man, who
had silently listened to all the gentleman had: tid, desired
to get out, saying that his home lay in that direction.
The gentleman stopped his horse, and the man got out,
took his adviser by the hand, saying:
"I thank you, sir, for this ride and for all you have
said to me; I shall never forget any part ofi i When I
met you, it was my intention to rob you. I could easily
have done so, but your kind act and kind words put better
thoughts into my heart. I think I never shall be guilty
of the crime you have saved me from committing this



afternoon. I thank God for having met you; you have
made me a better man."


ONE day, says a Persian poet, I saw a bunch of roses,'
and in the midst of them grew a tuft of grass.
How," I cried to the grass, does a poor plant like
you dare to be found in the company of roses ? "
And I ran to tear away the tuft, when the grass
Spare me! It is true, I am not a rose ; but you will
perceive from my perfume that I have been among the
This is a very pretty fable for young people. It makes us
recollect one of the proverbs of Solomon: "He that
walketh with wise men shall be wise ; but a companion of
fools shall be destroyed," Young people like to have com-
panions, and it is proper that they should have them.
If we had no one to associate with, we should be unhap-
py. We need friends that we may confide in, ani that we



may tell them what we feel and what we think. But we
must take care as to the choice of friends ; for just as the
grass in the fable imbibed the scent of the roses, so we be-
come like those with whom we associate.


A VERY little boy by the name of Bertie," kept a
box in which he deposited his little treasures. After he
died his mother took the key and opened it. It was full
of all sorts of things. There were specimens of stones,
and shells, and moss, and grass, and dried flowers. There
were, also, curious flies, found dead; but they were not
destroyed by him, as he would never sacrifice a short
sunny existence for self gratification. There were a num-
ber of books and small ornamental toys which had been
given him--a drawing slate with pencils, colored chalks,
a small box of colors, some little plates which he had
colored, in his own untaught style a commenced
copy of the hymn, I know that my Redeemer liveth"
an unfinished letter to his grandpapa, and some torn
leaves which he had found with passages of scripture


upon them-a copy of the lines on the death of an only
son." Also a number of sketches of missionary stations,
chapels and schools, which he had cut out and colored.
His mother once asked him why he cut them out, saying,
that there might be some reading on the back of the pieces
worth saving. Oh no, mamma," he replied, "I looked
carefully at the backs first." In the box was a purse con-
taining three shillings.
Such were the treasures which this little lamb had left
when he died And as you will be pleased to know
what was done with the box of treasures, I will tell you.
'" The thought struck me," says his mother, that after
he was gone, I should not know what to do with Bertie's
box of treasures; I therefore asked him what I should do
with them." He replied, Oh, give half to God and
half to the children, and be sure to divide them fairly."
The money in the box was devoted to the purchase of the
Bible and a collecting box made in the form of a Bible;
for, said he, when my friends come and give money to
the children, then hold Bertie's box for Bertie's share."
This is a good example for all children. Your little trea-
sures may serve a good purpose when you die.



THE Atheist in his garden stood,
At twilight's pensive hour,
His little daughter by his side,
Was gazing on a flower.

"Oh, pick that little blossom, Pa,"
The little prattler said,
SIt is the fairest one that blooms
Within that lonely bed."

The father plucked the chosen flower,
And gave it to his child;
With parted lips and sparkling eye,
She seized the gift and smiled.

"0 Pa who made this pretty flower,
This little violet blue ;
Who gave it such a fragrant smell,
And such a lovely hue ? "

A change came o'er the father's brow,
His eye grew strangely wild,
New thoughts within him had been stirred
By that sweet, artless child.



The truth flashed on the fathefs mind,
The truth in all its power;
There is a God, my child," said he,
'Who made that little flower."


ANNE was the daughter of a wealthy farmer. She had
a good New England school education, and was well bred
and well taught at home in the virtues and manners that
constitute domestic social life. Her father died a year
before her marriage. He left a will dividing his property
equally between his son and daughter, giving to the son
the homestead with all its accumulated riches, and to the
daughter the largest share of the perspal property amount-
ing to 6 or 7000 dollars. This little fortune became at
Anne's marriage the property of her husband. It would
seem that the property of a woman received from her
father should be her's. But the laws of a barbarous age
fixed it otherwise.


Anne ma ied John Warren, who was the youngest child,
daintly bred by his parents. He opened a dry good store
in a small town in the vicinity of B- where he inves-
ted Annie's property. He was a farmer, and did not think
of the qualifications necessary to a successful merchant.
For five or six years he went on tolerably, living genteelly
and recklessly, expecting that every year's gain would
make up the excess of the past. When sixteen years of
their married life had passed, they were living in, a single
room in the crowded street of R- Every penny of
the inheritance was gone-three children had died-three
survived; a girl of fifteen years, whom the mother was
educating to be a teacher-a boy of twelve who was living
at home, and Jessy, a pale, delicate, little struggler for
life, three years old.
Mrs. W- was much changed in these sixteen years.
Her round blooming cheek was pale and sunken, her dark
chestnut hair had become thin and gray, her bright eyes,
over-tasked by use and watching, were faded, and her whole
person shrunken. Yet she had gained a great victory.
Yes, it was a precious pearl. And you will wish to know
what it was. It was a gentle submission and resignat
- a patience under all her afflictions. But learn a less .
Take care to whom you give your hand in marriage.





Two little orphan boys, whose parents died in a foreign
land, were put on board a vessel to be taken home to their
relatives and friends. On a bitter cold night, when the north-
east winds sang through the shrouds of the vessel, the little
boys were crouchedon the deck behind a bale of goods, to sleep
for the night. The eldest boy wrapt around his younger
brother his little cloak, to shield him from the surf and
sleet, and then drew him close to his side and said to him,
I" the night will not be long, and as the wind blows we
shall the sooner reach our home and see the peet fire glow."
So he tried to cheer his little brother, and told him to go
to sleep and forget the cold night and think about the
morning that would come. They both soon sank to sleep
on the cold deck, huddled close to each other, and locked
close in each other's arms. The steerage passengers were
all down below, snugly stowed away in their warm berths,
and forgot all about the cold wind and the frost. When
the morning came the land appeared, and the passengers
began to pace the deck, and as the vessel moved along they
tried some well known spot to trace.


Oaly the orphans did not stir,
Of all this bustling train;
They reached their home this very night,
They will not stir again!
The winter's breath proved kind to them,
And ended all their pain.
But in their deep and freezing sleep,
Clasped rigid to each other,
In dreams they cried, the bright morn breaks,
Home home is hear, my brother ;
The angel death has been our friend,
We come! dear father, mother !"


A LITTLE boy went to sea with his father to learn to be
a sailor. One day his father said to him, "Come, my
boy, you will never be a sailor if you don't learn to climb."
The boy was very ambitious, and' soon scrambled up to
top of *the rigging; but when he saw at what a height he
was he began to be frightened, and called out, Oh father,
I shall fall, what shall I do "



"Look up-look up, my son," said his father; "if you
look down you will be giddy; but if you keep looking up
to the flag at the top of the mast you will descend
safely. The boy followed his father's advice, and
soon came down to the deck of the vessel in safety. You
may learn from.this story, to look up to Jesus, as the high-
est example, and as the Saviour of mankind.


WHAT beautiful things flowers are, said one of the
party of little girls who were arranging the flowers they
had gathered in the pleasant fields. "Which flower would
you rather be like, Helen ? "
Just as if there would be any choice, said Laura.
' I like the Rose. I should like to be the queen of flowers,
or none." Laura was naturally very proud.
For my part" observed Helen, "I should like to resemble
the Rhododendron; when any one touches it, or shakes it
roughly, it scatters a shower of honey dew from its roseate



cups, teaching us to shower blessings upon our enemies.
Oh, who does not wish to be as meek as this flower ? It
is very difficult, I know," said Helen; "but we are taught
to possess a meek and lowly spirit."
"It is difficult, I know," said Lucy, "if we trust to
our own strength. It is only when my father looks at me
in his kind manner, that I have any control of myself.
What a pity it is that we cannot always remember that the
eye of our Heavenly Father is upon us." "I wish I
could," said Helen.
"Now, Clara, we are waiting for you," said Laura.
Clara smiled; and immediately chose the pale woodbine, or
convolvulus, which so carelessly winds in and out among
the bushes this is an emblem of loving tenderness.
"Now what says Lucy ? exclaimed Helen.
"I think I can guess, said Clara; "either a violet, w
a heart's ease. Am I right "
"Not quite," said Lucy, althoughh both the flowers
you have mentioned, are great favorites of mine. But I
think I should like to resemble the.daisy, most, because it
is always looking upward."
Certainly Lucy made a wise choice. What more do we
require for happiness, than to be able, let the cloud be
ever so dark, to look upward with trusting faith in God.




MY father's house was indeed a pleasant home; and
father was the supreme guide of his own household. He
was gentle, but he could be firm and resolute when the
case demanded. Mother was the sunshine of our little
garden of love ; her talents and energy gave her influence;
and united to a man like father, she was all that is loveable
in the character of woman.
But the dear old home, where I grew from infancy to
boyhood, and from boyhood to youth, I shall never forget.
It was a large house on the slope of a hill, just high enough
to overlook several miles of our level country, and smooth
enough with its soft grassy carpet, for us to roll down from
the summit to the foot of the hill. At the back of the
house was another hill, where we used to roll under the
shade of the old elm, and where Miles and I would sit
whole afternoons and fly the kite, each taking turns in hold-
ing the string. This was a happy place for us, and espe-





cially in the spring time, when the happy looking cows
grazed along the pathway which winds around the elm to
the stream where Kate and I used to sail my little boat.
All summer long this place was vocal with the songs of
birds, which built their nests in safety among the tall trees
of the grove in the rear of the farm. We had also the
music of the running brook, and the pleasant hum of my
father's cotton mill, which brought us in our daily bread.
Haying time was always a happy season for us boys.
Father's two horses, Dick" and Bonny," would take
off the farm as large a load of hay as any in the village.
Years past on, and we were a happy band of brothers
and sisters. After Kate, came the twins, Margaret and
Herbert, and last of all came the youngest darling, blue
eyed Dora. We had a happy childhood. Our station in
the world was high enough to enable us to have all the
harmless pleasures and studies that were useful and actx-
ally necessary to boys and girls of our station. Father
always thought that it was better in early youth not to
force the bays to too hard study, and mother loved best to
see Kate and Margaret using the fingers in fabricating
garments, than in playing the harp. We were free, happy,
roving children on father's farm, unchained by the forms



of fashionable life." We ha costly s to spoil, and
were permitted to play in ir een fields without a ser-
vant's eye, and to bathe in the clear shallow stream with-
out fear of drowning. As I have said before, these were
happy days; and when I think of them gone, I often ex-
press my regret that we did not improve them more for
the cultivation of the mind and the affections. In the next
story you will see that there were some passing clouds in
. our early summer days.


IN a large family there are often diversity of character
and varieties of mood and temper, which bring some clouds
of sorrow. In our little Eden of innocence there were
storms now and then. Miles was a little wild and head-
strong from his babyhood, and Margaret, though very
beautiful, was often wilful and vain. For five years the
twins had grown up together the same in beauty and health
One day an accident befel Herbert, and Pie dear child
rose from his bed of sickness a pale and crippled boy. His


twin sister grew up tall and blooming. The twins loved
each other very much, and it was a pleasant sight to see
how the deformed boy was cherished and protected by his
sister Margaret. She would often leave us in the midst
of our plays to go and sit by Herbert, who could not share
with us in them.
We had our yearly festivals, our cowslip gatherings,
our blackberry hunting, our hay makings, and all the
delights so pleasant to country children. Our five birth-
days were each signalized by simple presents and evening
parties, in the garden or the house, as the season permitted.
Herbert and Margaret's birthdays came in the sunny time
of May, when there were double rejoicings to be made.
They were always set up in their chairs in the bower,
decorated with flowers and crowned with wreaths. I now
think of Margaret smiling under her brilliant garland,
while poor Herbert looked up to her with his pale sweet
'face. I heard him once say to her when we had all gone
away to pluck flowers:
How beautiful you are to-day, Margaret, with your
rosy cheeks and brown hair."
But that does not make me any better or prettier than



you, because I am strong and you are not, or that my
cheeks are red and your's are pale."
Miles was just carrying little Dora over the steeping
stones at the brook, when Herbert cried:
"O, if I could only run and leap like Miles; but I am
very helpless."
To which Margaret replied: Never mind, brother; I
will love you and take care of you all your life," and she
said these words with a sister's love, as she piLt her arms
around the neck of her helpless brother. She loved him
the more, and aimed to please him by reading books to
him which were his delight. This was a pleasant sight,
and the brothers always admired Margaret for her atten-
tion to their helpless brother.


Young children like to have a small piece of land for a
garden which they can call their own. And it is very
pleasant to dig the ground, sow the seed, and watch the lit-



tie green plants which peep out of the earth, and to see the
beautiful buds and fresh blossoms.
Every boy and girl has a bit of garden, and we are told in
the good book to take good care of it, and see that the weeds
of vice do not spread over it, and to be sure and have it
covered with plants of goodness. This garden is the HEART.
Such things as anger, sloth, lying and cheating, are nox-
ious weeds. But if you are active and industrious, and
keep cultivating this little garden, and keep out all the
bad weeds, God will help you to make a good garden, full
of pleasant plants, and flowers of virtue. I have seen
some gardens which look very bad, covered with briars
and weeds, the grass growing in the paths, and the knotty
weeds choking the few puny flowers that are drooping and
dying out. Every thing seems to say--" How idle the
owner of this garden is. But I have seen other gar-
dens where there were scarcely any weeds. The walks
look tidy, the flowers in blossom, the trees are laden with
fruit, and every thing says, How busy the owner is. "
Happy are you, dear children, if you are working earnest-
ly in the garden of your hearts. Your garden will be
clean, pleasant, and fruitful a credit and comfort to you
all your days.




I will tell you an anecdote about Mrs. Hannah More,
when she was eighty years old. A widow and her little
son paid a visit to Mrs. More, at Barley Wood. When
they were about to leave, Mrs. M. stooped to kiss the lit-
tle boy, not as a mere compliment, as old maids usually
kiss children, but she took his smiling face between her
two hands, and looked upon it a moment as a mother
would, then kissed it fondly more than once. Now when
you are a man, my child, will you remember me ? The
little boy had just been eating some cake which she gave
him, and he, instead of giving her any answer, glanced his
eyes on the remnants of the cake which lay on the table.
" Well, said Mrs. M., you will remember the. cake at
Barley Wood, wont you ?" "Yes, said the boy, "It
was nice cake, and you are so kind that I will remember
both. That is right, she replied, I like to have
the young remember me for being kind -then you will
remember old Mrs. Hannah More ? "
Always, ma'am, I'll try to remember you always. "
"What a good child said she, after his mother was gone,


,C and of good stock; that child will be as true as steel.
It was so much more natural that the child should remem-
ber the cake than an old woman, that I love his sincerity."
She died on the 7th of Sept., 1833, aged eighty-eight.
She was buried in Wrighton churchyard, beneath an old
tree which is still flourishing.


You have perhaps heard of Benjamin West, the celebra-
ted artist. I will tell you about his first effort in drawing.
One of his sisters who had been married some time,
came with her babe to spend a few days at her father's.
When the child was asleep in the cradle, Mrs. West invited
her daughter to gather flowers in the garden, and told Ben-
jamin to take care of the little child while they were gone;
and gave him a fan to flap away the flies from his little
charge. After some time the child appeared to 'smile t.a
its sleep, and it attracted young Benney's attention. He
was so pleased with the smiling, sleeping babe, that he
thought he would see what he could do at drawing a por.


trait of it. He was only in his seventh year; he got some
paper, pens, and some red and black ink, and commenced
his work, and soon drew the picture of the babe.
Hearing his mother and sister coming in from the gar-
den, he hid his picture; but his mother seeing he was
confused, asked him what he was about, and requested
him to show her the paper. He obeyed, and entreated her
not to be angry. Mrs. West, after looking some time,
with much pleasure, said to her daughter, I declare, he
has made a likeness of little Sally," and kissed him with
evident satisfaction. This gave him much encouragement,
and he would often draw pictures of flowers which she
held in her hand. Here the instinct of his great genius
was first awakened. This circumstance occurred in the
midst of a Pennsylvania forest, a hundred and four years ago.
At the age of eighteen he was fairly established in the city
of Philadelphia as an artist.


IN the valley between "Longbrigg" and Highclose."



in the fertile little dale on the left, stands an old cottage,
which is truly a nest in a green place." The sun shines
on the diamond paned windows all through the long after-
noons of a summer's day. It is very large and roomy.
Around it is a trim little garden with pleasant flower bor-
ders under the low windows. From the cottage is a bright
lookout into a distant scene of much variety.
Some years ago it was more desolate, as it was so iso-
lated from the world. Now the children's voices blend
with the song of the wood birds, and they have a garden
there of dandejions, daisies, and flowers. The roof and
walls are now covered with stone crop and moss, and trav-
eller's joy, which gives it a variety of color. The currant
bushes are pruned, and the long rose branches are trimmed,
and present a blooming appearance. This house, with
forty acres of land, some rocky and sterile, and some rich
meadow and peat, formed the possessions of the Prestons
in Westmoreland. For two hundred years this land had
been theirs. Mr. Preston and his wife were industrious
and respectable people. They had two children, Martha
and John. The sister eight years older than her brother
and acted a motherly part towards him. As her mother
had to go to market, to see to the cows andTdairy, and to look



after the sheep on the fell, Martha took most of the care
of little Johnny.
It is said that a very active mother does not always
make a very active daughter, and that is because she does
things herself, and has but little patience with the awk-
ward and slow efforts of a learner. Mrs. Preston said that
Martha was too long in going to market with the butter,
and she made the bread too thick, and did not press all the
water out of the butter, and she folded up the fleeces the
wrong way, and therefore she did all herself. Hence Mar-
tha was left to take the whole care of Johnpy, and to roam
about in the woods. When she was about fifteen her mo-
ther died, so that Martha was left her mother's place in
the house, which she filled beyond the expectation of all
the neighbors. Her father died when Johnny was sixteen,
and his last advice to his daughter was, to take care of her
brother, to look after his worldly affairs, and above all to
bear his soul in prayer to heaven, where he hoped to meet
the household once more. The share of her father's pro-
perty when he died, was eighty pounds. Here Martha
spent her days, frugal, industrious and benevolent. And
it is said, there will not be a grave in Grasmere church-
yard, more decked with flowers, more visited with respect,



regret, and tears, and faithful trust, than that of Martha
Preston when she dies. In the next story you will be in-
terested in what happened at the Grey Cottage.


ONE winter's night when the evening had shut in very
early, owing to the black snow clouds that hung close around
the horizon, Martha sat looking into the fire. Her old
sheep dog, Fly, lay at her feet. The cows were foddered
for the night, and the sheep were penned up in the yard.
Fly was a faithful dog, and for some reason, this evening,
he was very restless. Why he pricked up his ears, and
went snuffing to the door, and pacing about the room, was
more than Martha could tell.
Lie down, Fly,-good dog-lie down," she said; but
Fly would not mind her, which was an unusual thing.
She was certain something was the matter, and she felt
she must go up to the fell; and with the foresight com-
mon to the Dale's people, who knew what mountain storms
are, she took under her cloak a small vial of gin, which



was kept in case of any accident, and set out with the dog
Fly. The snow fell fast, the wind blew, and the drifts
lay thick. She had great confidence in Fly, that if any
thing was the matter he would find it out. He ran straight
up the little steep path which led through the woods. On
she followed, her cloak white with snow, until she came,
into the more open ground, where she lost sight of Fly
and for a time stood bewildered, until he should return
and guide her. The birds and beasts had gone to rest,
and the stillness of the moors was awful. It was night,
and dark. Suddenly she heard a child's feeble voice, and
in an instant she pressed on towards the spot from which
the sound came; soon she heard Fly's loud howl for aid.
At last she reached the spot, and found a little boy half
asleep, a kind of drowsiness which precedes death. He
could not speak; he could only moan. She moistened his
lips with the gin, and poured a little down his throat.
She then raised him up and carried him a short distance
down the hill; then she stopped to rest awhile; and then
she got as far as the woods, where the winds were not so
cold. Again she gave him a few drops from her vial, and
now he was able to walk a few steps; then Martha put up
a fervent prayer to God for assistance, as she dragged the




lost boy to her cottage. She now laid him down to the
warm fire, while Fly snuffed around him in great joy.
She took off his wet clothes, and wrapped him in her woollen
cloak. He soon recovered and was able to tell his story.
His father had sent him up to the fells for a sheep that
was missing. The dog left him, and night and snow came
on, and he got lost on the fells. The family had lately
come to live near Rydal, and the boy did not know all the
landmarks. Martha took the best of care of the boy till
the morning, when his mother came, with a grateful heart
towards God for the means which had guided Martha to
her lost boy.

(In three Stories.)

IN one of our western cities was a poor woman, in th
garret of a lonely house, who was very sick, and near
dying. She had two children, a brother and sister, who

." A"



knelt beside her bed to catch her dying words. "Annie,
my daughter," said the mother, soon, and your young
brother will have no earthly friend but you; will you, my
daughter, be to him a faithful sister ? "
Yes, mother, I will," said the daughter, as she wiped
away her tears.
And then she laid her hand upon the head of her son,
and said, Be a good boy, Willy, and mind your sister;
she is but three years older than yourself, but as far as
her knowledge goes, she will be a guide for you; and she
and you have a Father in Heaven who will never leave
you. Will you promise to do as she wishes ? "
Willy raised his eyes to his mother, and bowed his head
in token of assent, and then burst into tears. The mother
was a Christian, and putting her arm around the neck ot
Willy, and with the other hand clasping her daughter, she
calmly said to them, Weep not, dear children, you will
find friends; God is the father of the fatherless. Keep in
mind that his eye is upon you; be honest and virtuous,
faithful and believing, and all things will work together
for your good."
The dying mother could say no more; her breath grew
short, and stretching out her arms, she cried, My dear


children, I must leave you : let me kiss you-God bless
and keep-"
Her arms fell from around them, the words died away
on her lips, and her weary soul departed.
After the funeral of this mother, the moon shone brightly
into the desolate chamber, and revealed a beautiful scene,
that of a sister's love.
Anna sat near the window, and little Willy lay his
weary head in her lap. They were now without father or
mother. Sleep had stolen upon the weary eyes of Willy.
Anna smoothed back the dark hair, which Aung over his
brow, then carefully raised his slender frame in her arms
and laid him upon his bed. Then seating herself beside
him she thought of her mother's last request to take care
of Willy.
Yes," she exclaimed, I must begin to-morrow. I
will go out and try to get some work, for poor Willy must
remain at school. Dear boy," she exclaimed, "I will
never see him suffer." You will, in the next story, find
IT was a wearisome day to poor Anna, as she walked
from square to square, calling at the houses for employ-



ment. Some received her kindly, and patronised her
themselves, and promised to interest their friends in her
behalf, while others, alleging that she could not earn as
much as a woman, endeavored to beat her down a few
shillings in her price. But among all, Anna found means
of subsistence for many months. But soon her constitu-
tion began to grow weak, and her friends thought it best
for Willy to give up his school awhile, and to obtain some
place as errand boy, and for Anna to pursue a more active
Soon Anna found herself in a new home, doing the work
of a family which devolved on her. She kept a diary, and
she would often go away in her own little room, and scrib-
ble a few lines in her book. Here is an an extract from
her writings: -
"' To-day I am very tired, and yet but very little has
been accomplished. I know I could do well enough if I
was allowed to regulate my work, or if there was only order
in the arrangement. There is certainly a great want of
system in this family; I am never allowed to finish one
piece of work before I am called off to another, and then
blamed because I did not do the first in time.


One wants me to put the dough in the pants, and
before I get my hands clean, another calls me to go and
get some wood; another tells me to go to the store for
some thread; another cries out, Anna! Anna! and away
I am sent to the third story after a book. Do they think
a girl like me is never tired? Ah, me! I must seek
another place. I love little children, and I think I should
do for a child's nurse; I will advertise."
And she did advertise, and it was not long before she
was answered by a request to call at Number 4, E
street, at three o'clock on Wednesday. In the next story
we shall find
ANNA, having obtained leave of her mistress, soon found
herself at the door of Mrs. West. The servant girl came
to the door, and Anna followed her into the sitting-room,
where every thing was nicely arranged. Soon a gentle
looking lady came into the room, with a babe in her arms,
and asking her, in a pleasant voice, if she was the girl
who advertised ? You look hardly strong enough to
handle such a boy as this," said shr, as she placed on her
lap a plump, black-eyed little fellow of eight months old.
" Let me see if you can lift him easily."


Anna gave the little fellow a hug and a kiss, ana taen
S playfully tossed him up a few times, but he was so heavy
that she soon placed him on her knee, saying, I am not
used to holding children, but think I shall soon get accus-
tomed to it." The lady agreed to have Anna come and
enter upon her duties the next week.
Weeks rolled away, and Anna's face looked joyous, for
peace was in her heart. She loved her mistress because
he was so thoughtful and would not even let her carry
e babe half so much as she wished, but would tell her
to amuse him on the floor. Mrs. West would often bring
her work and sit with Anna in the nursery, and talk with
her about her mother and Willy. Oh, how Anna loved
Mrs. West!
Willy was now learning a trade with an honest carpen-
ter, who gave him permission to visit his sister once a
week, and many happy hours did they pass together in the
nursery with the little pet Charley.
As the summer months came on, Mrs. West prepared to
visit her mother, who lived a few miles in the country.
Anna went with her. Charley was now old enough to go
into the woods and run about, while Anna gathered flowers,
chased butterflies, and amused him with infant stories.



Little Charley would often fall asleep to the sweet tones
of Anna's voice, and then she would take him up and bear
him to the house.
Three years passed away, and Charley needed no other
nurse than his mother, and Anna's heart ached at the
thought of leaving Mrs. West and little Charley. She
had been so happy there that she dreaded to go out among
strangers to look for a new place.
Mrs. West made arrangements for Anna to live with he
parents, who in a short time made her their adopted chil
It was a beautiful country home, and she became as a dear
child to Mr. and Mrs. Warren.

ON a summer's evening about half an hour after bed
time, as three little brothers lay talking together they heard
a gentle footstep on the stairs. It was their sister Lucy.
"Are you asleep," she asked.
"No, we are not asleep," cried the boys.

.. B^



"I have brought something to show you," said Lucy,
and going into the darkest corner of the room, she opened
her hand and the boys saw something sparkle like a dia-
mond or a star.
"What is it, cried little Frank, jumping out of bed
Sand running to look. Lucy held out her hand, but told
-him not to touch it.
Oh, it moves! It moves "said he" It must be some-
ing alive."
Ah said John, it is a glow worm. I saw one last
summer on a bank in Sand Lee."
Take care," said Frank, that it does not burn the
counterpane." The two elder brothers laughed; but Lucy
reminded them that they would most likely have fallen
into the same mistake, if they had not been taught that
the glow worm's light, though it shines so brightly, does not
.burn. To convince Frank she told him to holdout his
hand. The little boy felt afraid, but as he knew that Lucy
never deceived him, he put out his hand, and soon, to his
great delight, the harmless glow worm lay in his hand.
Lucy promised to tell him something about the glow worm
another time. Frank went ba;k to his bed, and Lucy bid


her brothers good night, promising to put the prize under
a glass on the lawn.
So night after night, for weeks, the three boys saw
the twinkling light of the glow worm on the dewy grass.
One evening they began to quarrel about it, and none but
little Frank was willing to give up his claim to it. It
grieved him to hear his brothers quarrelling and saying
unkind words to each other; and he also thought that the
poor glow worm ought not to be kept a prisoner under the
glass, instead of flying over the green turf or mossy bank. .
But when he tried to bring John and Robert to the same f
opinion, they would not hear to him. So Lucy, who was
a kind sister, when she found that the pleasure she had
procured for them was the occasion of their naughty con-
duct, sat down by the window and told them to remember that
God, who made the glow worm and caused its light to shine,
could see them in their chamber, and hear every sinful
word. John and Robert felt the force of their sister's
words, and settled their quarrel without delay, and they
gave Frank permission to go early in the morning and let
the imprisoned glow worm creep away.




IN the suburbs of the city of B. stands the beautiful re-
sidence of Mr. James. It was a rural spot, as it was sur-
rounded with all the beauties of nature. There were rip-
pling streams, and winding paths through the green fields
and woods, sunny hills and mossy rocks. Emily, the only
daughter of Mr. J., had all these pleasant scenes, to enjoy,
and every thing to make her home happy. Her father
owned a noble pair of grays and a very fine carriage, and
she had the pleasure of riding with her father whenever
she chose. But Emily did not live altogether for her own
happiness; she was accustomed to go and see the people
in the neighborhood of her home, and if any were poor or
sick she would always try to benefit them.
Her mother had to put up many a bundle of nice things
for her to take to some poor family in need. She was also
fond of the works of nature, and would frequently spend
an hour in walking alone in the shady rural places in her
town. One day, as the beautiful spring had just unfolded
its loveliness, Emily thought she would walk out and


breathe the delicious air. With a heart laden with good
thoughts and with a quick step she passed along the gra-
velled street and by the cultivated grounds and fine houses,
until she reached the green turf and wooded slopes, and
here paused awhile under the large old trees, and thought
of the wisdom, goodness, and love of God in giving us such
a beautiful earth.
On her route, where the river curved around the foot of
a gentle sloping hill in the shadows of old forest trees, was
made a rural cemetery; so pleasant were its quiet paths
and its cool shades in summer, that the living loved to wan-
der there. Friends dame there to plant flowers upon the
graves of dear ones they had lost.
Through a low ivy covered gateway of stone, Emily en-
tered the quiet place. There were no massive railings, and
lofty monuments, and no costly devices, but God had made
this place very beautiful- flowers were blooming along
the well trodden paths, and around the last resting places
of the dead. Here and there arose a simple shaft or a light
column, and the graves of the household were bordered by
a green hedge or surrounded by shadowing trees.
As Emily passed through the familiar walks, she came
suddenly to a grave in the remote corner of the cemetery,


beside which sat a solitary mourner. A small white slab
lay upon the centre of the green mound and at its head grew a
rose bush in bloom, bending, till its weight of white buds
and blossoms touched the long bright grass upon the grave.
Emily attracted by its simply beauty, and drawing near,
she stooped down and read upon the marble slab, "Dear
Mina." Her young eyes filled instantly with tears, for
she knew that it was the darling child of a lady who to her
was a stranger. As she turned away from the spot she
met a lady approaching, who passed her and kneeled down
beside the grave. She thought she would speak to the lady,
and with tender sympathy she asked, Was it your child 7"
The lady, who was deep in thought, looked up at the
sound of Emily's earnest voice, and answered, softly, "yes;
Dear Mina' was my only child." This interview led
Emily to an acquaintance with the sorrowing mother, which
caused her never to forget her morning ramble. She was
a good woman, and at the decease of Emily's mother be-
came her Christian companion and instructor.

I DOUBT whether he will find the way to heaven who de-



sires to go there alone: all heavenly hearts are charitable :
enlightened souls cannot but diffuse their rays. I will, if
I can, do something for others and for heaven; not to
merit by it, but to express my gratitude. Though I cannot
do what I would, I will labor to do what I can. Feltham.


FLYING the kite is a pleasant amusement for boys, and
when we see the kites flying high in the air, we are always
reminded of a kite whose history we heard when a little
child, and which we give our readers. Shortly after the
closeof the Revolutionary war, there was a little boy whose
parents had left their home and friends in England, on ac-
count of their sympathy with the struggle of freedom for
their rights in America. Their first home was in Nor-
folk, Va.
This little boy was very much delighted with the Amer-
ican eagle, and he determined to make a kite as much
like his favorite bird as he could. He had a friend who
was a painter and gilder, and a person of great ingenuity.



Together they contrived a beautiful kite representing an
eagle of gigantic size. It was painted and gilded in the
most beautiful manner, and a small but very brilliant lan-
tern was attached to it just below the breast.
They kept their secret very carefully, never suffering
any one to enter the room while it was making.
On a dark, cloudy, windy night, the kite was flown.
Its mechanism was so perfect that it sailed very beauti-
fully. The lantern illuminated every part, and it made a
very brilliant appearance. Crowds of people thronged the
streets, wondering what the strange visitor was. Some
were alarmed, and thought it was an omen of fearful events.
Great was their admiration when they discovered that the
wonderful bird was the ingenious contrivance of a little boy;
and they could scarcely be convinced that what looked so
much like a real bird was only an ingenious combination of
sticks and painted paper.


There arc a great many novel sights in the streets of



London, for the cheap entertainment of the people. The
family circle of different animals and birds is an admirable
illustration of the peace which should pervade among fam-
ilies. The proprietor of this little menagerie calls it,
"The Happy Family." The house in which they are
kept is a simple constructed cage. It is a large square
hen-coop, placed on a low hand-cart, which a man draws
about from one street to another, and gets a few pennys a
day from those who stop to look at the domestic happiness
of his family. Perhaps the first.thing you will see, is a
large cat, washing her face, with a number of large rats
nestling around her,. like kittens, whilst others are climbing
up her back and playing with her whiskers. In another
corner of the room a dove and a hawk are sitting on the
head of a dog which is resting across the neck of a rabbit.
The floor is covered with the oddest social circles imagine
ble weailes and Guinea pigs, and peeping chickens,
are putting their noses together, caressingly. The perches
above are covered with birds whose natural antipathies
have been subdued into mutual affection by the law of kind-
ness. The grave owl is sitting upright, and meditating in
the sun, with a keen-sighted sparrow perched between his



ears trying to open the eyes of the sleepy owl with its
sharp bill.
Children stop to look at this scene, and Mr. Burritt
thinks they may carry away lessons which will do them
good. They will think on it on their way to school, and
at home too, when any thing crosses their will in family or
on the play ground.


A POOR sick man might go to the door of some rich per-
son's house and ask relief for himself and not be ablf to obtain
admittance; but if he brought in his hand a paper written
by the son of the master of the house, whom he had met
with in a distant land, and in his name asked for the re-
lief, his request would be granted for the sake of the mas-
ter's son.
Now we all need friends and every one tries to get and
keep a few friends. Children will love a little dog, or a
lamb, or a dove, or a bird. The little boy will talk to his
top, and the little girl will talk to her doll, which shows



that they want a friend; and if the top and doll could talk
and love them, they would feel happier.
Some years ago there was an Indian in the State of
Maine, who for his very good conduct had a large farm
given him by the State. He built his little house on his
land, and there lived. The white people about did not
treat him so kindly as they ought. His only child was
taken sick and died, an= none of the whites went to com-
fort him, or to assist him in burying his little child.
Soon after, he went to the white people, and said to them
- When white man's child die, Indian may be sorry -
he help bury him when my child die, no one speak to
me I make his grave alone. I can no live here, for I
have no friend to love me."
The poor Indian gave up his farm, dug up the body of
his child, and carried it with him 200 miles through the
forest, to join the Canada Indians.
The Indian loved his child, and he wanted friends. So
you children will need a friend to look to every day.
When we are sick, in distress, or about to die, we want a
friend in whom we may trust and be happy.


WHEREFORE did God create passions within us, plea-
sures round about us, but that these, rightly tempered, are
the very ingredients of virtue. Milton.


Two little girls went into the fields to gather flowers.
Buttercups, violets, and many other .blossoms were in
abundance. One of the girls was pleased with every thing,
and began to pick such flowers as came in her way. In a
short time she collected a great quantity of flowers, and
though some of them were not very handsome, yet they
made a'very beautiful bunch. The other child was more
dainty and determined to get her none but those which
were very beautiful. The buttercups were all of one
color and did not strike her fancy-the blue violets were
too common, and so the little pair wandered on through
the fields till they were about to return home. By this
time the dainty child, seeing that her sister had a fine col-
lection of flowers while she had none, began to think it



best to pick such as she could get. But now the flowers
were scarce; not even a dandelion nor a flower was to be
found. The little girl at length begged of her sister a sin-
gle dandelion, and thus they returned home. The children
told their story, and their mother addressed them thus My
dear children, let this event teach you a lesson. Jane has
acted the wisest part. Content with such flowers as came
in her way, and not aiming at what was beyond her reach,
she has been successful in her pursuit. But Laura wanted
something more beautiful than could be found, collected
nothing from the field, and was finally obliged to beg a
simple flower from her sister. So it is, children, in p-s-
sing through life-gather what is good and pleasant along
your path, and you will, day by day, collect enough to
make you contented and happy. But if you scorn those
blessings which are common, and reach after those which
are more rare and difficult to be obtained, you will meet
with frequent difficulties, and at last be dependant on others.
So gather the flowers as you go along the pathway of life.


TImNK not all is well within when all is well without;
or that thy being pleased is a sign that God is pleased:
but suspect every thing that is prosperous, unless it pro-
motes piety, and charity, and humility.- Taylor.

GOD hath given to man a short time here upon earth,
and yet upon this short time eternity depends.- Taylor.


IT is a mark of a good scholar to be prompt and stu-
dious. Such were the habits of little Jane Sumner. She
was the youngest of three sisters, and from her first being
able to read, she was very fond of reading; and at school
her teacher became much interested in little Jane on ac-
count of her interest in study, and the promptness she
manifested in reciting her lessons. Jane had a quiet little
home and was allowed considerable time for study, although



she had to devote some time in assisting her mother about
There was a very fine garden attached to Mrs. Sumner's
residence, where she took much pleasure in cultivating the
flowers. In the centre of the garden was built a summer
house all covered over with grape vine. The broad leaves
of the vine made a refreshing shade to it, and thereby
shielded the warm sun from persons under it. This little
summer house Jane frequently occupied for her study. In
the picture you see her with book in hand getting her les-
son. She arose very early in the morning, and by this
means gained much time.

Up in the morning early,
By daylights earliest ray,
With oar books prepared to study
The lessons of the day.

Little Jane, for her industry and good scholarship, ob-
tained quite a number of rewards of merit," which her
school mates said she justly deserved. There is one of
them with these lines:

For conduct good and lessons learned,
Your teacher can commend;



Good scholarship has richly earned
This tribute from your friend.

On one day, she came running home very much pleased
with her card, which her teacher gave herself and her little
sister Emma, for their good conduct and attention to their
studies. The card contained these lines:

See, Father mother, see!
To my sister and me,
Has our teacher given a card,
To show that we have studied hard.
To you we think it must be pleasant,
To see us both with such a present.

Every good boy and girl will be rewarded, and all such
. as are studious, and respectful to their teachers, will al-
ways get a reward.

GoD never allowed any man to do nothing. How mis-
erable is the condition of those men who spend their time
as if it were given them, and not lent. Bishop Hall.





Now the golden ear wants the reaper's hand,
Banish every fear, plenty fills the land.
Joyful raise songs of praise,
Goodness, goodness, crowns our days.
Yet again swell the strain,
He who feeds the birds that fly,
Will our daily wapts supply.
As the manna lay, on the desert ground,
So from day to day, mercies flow around.
As a father's love gives his children bread,
So our God above grants, and we are fed.

THINK in the morning what thou hast to do this day,
and at night what thou hast done; and do nothing upon
which thou mayst not boldly ask God's blessing; nor no-
thing for which thou shalt need to ask his pardon.-Anon.



THERE is a company of girls met together, and what
can they be talking about. Hark! ; Now I will tell you
something; if you'll promise never to tell," says Jane.
"(I will, certainly," replied Anne. And will you pro-
mise never to tell a single living creature as long as you
live ? The same reply is given, I will never tell."
Now Jane tells the secret, and what is it? It turns
out to be just nothing at all, and there is no good reason
why every body should'nt know it. It is this-" Lizzy
Smith is going to have a new bonnet, trimmed with pink
ribbon and flowers inside." Anna thinks no more of her
solemn promise, and the first school-mate she meets, she
opens the secret, with a solemn injunction for her not to
tell. By and by the secret is all out among the girls-
the promises are all broken. Now, children, remember
your word-keep it true, and never make a promise which
you do not intend to keep, and always avoid telling foolish


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