Then came home again to his dear mother's

cot,

And joyfully gave her the wages he got.

And oh, how she loved him! how great was her joy!

To think her dear Jem was a dutiful boy : Her arm round his neck she would tenderly

cast,

And kiss his red cheek, while the tears trickled fast.

Oh, then, was not little Jem happier far, Than naughty, and idle, and wicked boys are? For, as long as he lived, 'twas his comfort and joy,

To think he'd not been an undutiful boy.

The Ants' Nest.

Ir is such a beautiful day,

And the sun shines so bright and so warm, That the little ants, busy and gay,

Are come from their holes in a swarm.

All the winter together they sleep,
Or in underground passages run,
Not one of them daring to peep,
To see the bright face of the sun.

But the snow is now melted away,
And the trees are all cover'd with green;
And the little ants, busy and gay,

Creeping out from their houses are seen.

They've left us no room to go by,
So we'll step aside on to the grass,
For a hundred poor insects might die,
Under your little feet as they pass.

Sleepy Harry.

I Do not like to go to bed,
Sleepy little Harry said,
So, naughty Betty, go away,
I will not come at all, I say.

Oh, what a silly little fellow !

I should be quite ashamed to tell her; Then, Betty, you must come and carry This very foolish little Harry.

The little birds are better taught,
They go to roosting when they ought;
And all the ducks and fowls, you know,
They went to bed an hour ago.

The little beggar in the street,
Who wanders with his naked feet,
And has not where to lay his head,
Oh, he'd be glad to go to bed.

Going to Bed.

DOWN upon my pillow warm,
I do lay my little head,

And the rain, and wind, and storm,
Cannot come a-nigh my bed.

Many little children poor,
Have not any where to go,
And sad hardships they endure,
Such as I did never know.

Dear mamma, I'll thank you oft,
For this comfortable bed,
And this pretty pillow soft,
Where I rest my little head.

I shall sleep till morning light,
On a bed so nice as this;
So, my dear mamma, good night,
Give your little girl a kiss.

Idle Mary.

Oн, Mary, this will never do!

This work is sadly done, my dear,

And such a little of it too,

You have not taken pains, I fear.

Oh no, your work has been forgotten,
Indeed you've hardly thought of that ;
I saw you roll your ball of cotton
About the floor to please the cat.

See, here are stitches straggling wide,
And others reaching down so far;
I'm very sure you have not tried
At all to-day to please mamma.

The little girl who will not sew,
Should neither be allow'd to play ;
But then I hope, my love, that you
Will take more pains another day.

One little Boy.

I'm a little gentleman,

Play, and ride, and dance I can :
Very handsome clothes I wear,
And I live on dainty fare:
And whenever out I ride,
I've a servant by my side.