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Oh! I have it: there's a rat-trap in the cellar; go, Cinderella, and bring it to me directly."

Cinderella hesitated. "God-mother," she said, "I am so afraid of rats."

"Nonsense, child, if they are in the trap they can't hurt you; so, be quick."

Cinderella went and fetched the rat-trap, and there were three fine large rats in it, one old one and two young ones.

"Ah! that old fellow will make a capital coachman. See what fine whiskers he has got, and his tail!" So he was touched with the wand, and changed into a fat coachman, with an immense big wig and cocked-hat on. The other two rats were changed into postilions.

"A coach is of no use without footmen. Go, Cinderella, into the garden, and there, behind the cistern, you will find six green lizards: put them into your apron and bring them to me.”

So Cinderella brought the lizards, and, as soon as they were touched with the wand, they were changed into six stately footmen, with liveries of green and gold, and gold-headed canes in their hands; and they immediately sprang up behind the coach as if they had been used to it all their lives.

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"Now you can go to the ball," said the god-mother. But my clothes," said Cinderalla; "I cannot go with these dirty things on. Besides I must wash my face, and brush my hair " "We'll soon make you tidy," said the god-mother, waving the wand over Cinderella's head, and immediately her homespun dress was changed into a robe of satin and gold, adorned with brilliant jewels.

"You will have to dance, probably," said the godmother, "and then people will look at your feet, so here is a pair of white slippers of spun-glass. Nobody will guess what they are made of."

"Cinderella being now quite dressed, she stepped into the coach: one of the footmen handed her in, and then begged to know where he should tell the coachman to drive to ?"

"To the prince's ball," replied Cinderella. "Now mind what I tell you," said the godmother. "You must, on no account, be out after twelve o'clock; for if you stay at the ball till midnight, you will have no coach to bring you home, and all your fine clothes will be changed to homespun again." Cinderella promised her god-mother that she would certainly be home again before the clock struck twelve; and, bidding her good night, she set off in high glee.

In the ball-room they were dancing a minuet, when a great commotion was heard at the door at the other end of the room; and the prince was informed that a strange princess had arrived, with the most splendid equipage ever seen, and that she was the loveliest creature ever beheld.

The prince hastened down the grand staircase to the hall door to receive her. He handed her out of the coach with the greatest respect, and led her up to the ball-room. As soon as he entered with Cinderella, every eye was turned upon her; the dance was suspended, and the fiddlers forgot to play, lost in admiration at the wondrous beauty of the unknown princess.

"How beautiful she is! Who can she be ?" was in everybody's mouth. And when they had sufficiently admired her beauty, they criticised her clothes; and every lady made up her mind she would have just such another dress to come to the next ball in, provided she could find out where the stuff was bought, and the dressmaker who fitted it so beautifully.

Nobody admired her more than the old king, who could not take his eyes off her, which made the queen jealous, until he whispered in her ear,

"She is very beautiful, my dear; she reminds me of how you looked on our wedding day, five and twenty years ago."

The prince's son conducted Cinderella to a seat beside the queen's, and afterwards led her out to dance. So graceful was her every movement that the admiration she had excited was greatly increased. When supper was served she seated herself between her sisters, who did not recognise her, and was very attentive to them. The prince, who had seated himself opposite to her, could not eat a morsel of anything, he was so lost in admiration of her grace and beauty. He handed her the choicest fruits, which she shared with her sisters, who were greatly surprised at her condescension.

While they were engaged in conversation, Cinderella was startled at hearing the clock strike three-quarters past-eleven! She im mediately rose up, and, curtseying to the company, took her departure, escorted to the carriage by the king's son. Just as he was about to ask her when he should have the pleasure of seeing her again, the coachman cracked his whip, and the coach was off like a shot.

Cinderella reached home before the clock struck twelve, and found her god-mother waiting for her.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself, my child; perhaps you would like to go to the next ball."

"That I should, dear god-mother," replied Cinderella, "but I must thank you for the pleasure you have given me to-night; I shall remember it as long as I live."

Just as she had got her homespun dress on again, her sisters arrived. Cinderalla waited a minute or two before she went to the door and opened it.

"You are very late," she said, rubbing her eyes, "I am very tired and sleepy."

"Ah! you would not be tired if you had been at the ball. You would have seen the most beautiful princess in the world. Such a lovely creature. She took particular notice of us: gave us oranges, figs, and other nice things."

"Which I suppose you ate all up; well, never mind. Pray, what is the name of this wonderful princess, and where does she come from?"

"Nobody knows: some think from the moon, for she is too lovely for this world; the king's son is quite distracted about her, he would give anything in the world he possesses to know who she is. He is going to give another ball to-morrow on purpose, in hopes she will come again."

Cinderella was delighted to hear herself so praised, and secretly resolved to go to the next ball, if her god-mother would let her. "How you must have enjoyed yourselves," said Cinderella. "Ah, if I had been there! As you have seen her once you won't want to go again; lend me your dress to-morrow, then I can go."

"What presumption! what impudence!-lend my beautiful robe to a cinder-wench, a kitchen drudge, a maid of all work!-very fine indeed! What will you ask for next, I wonder? Perhaps you would like to dance with the prince. I am sure he would think himselt highly honoured at your condescension.

"I am sure he would," said Cinderella, laughing.

Next evening the two sisters went to the ball, and so did Cinderella.

Her beautiful horses were so swift, that she got there almost as soon as the sisters in their coach. The prince was overjoyed to see Cinderella again. He danced with her and with no one else, and said so many pretty things to her that they quite turned her little head. In her confusion she forgot what her god-mother had said to her about being home before midnight, and just as the prince was in the middle of one of his fine speeches, she heard the clock strike. "Is that eleven?" she asked of the prince. "Twelve, my queen," he replied.

Cinderella started to her feet in a great fright, and just whispering "Adieu," she tripped out of the room, but in her hurry one of her glass slippers came off. The prince, who had followed without being. able to overtake her, picked up the slipper and carefully put it into his pocket.

Cinderella could find no coach or footmen waiting for her, so she ran home as fast as she could, in her home-spun clothes. All her finery had vanished, with the exception of the glass slipper she had on.

The prince followed her to the gate, and asked the guards which way the princess had gone. They replied that no princess had passed out-nobody but a poor little girl clad in homespun. And the prince returned to the ball-room greatly perplexed, and taking the slipper out of his pocket every minute to admire it.

"What a pretty littie foot," he sighed.

When Cinderella's sisters came home from the ball, she asked them if the beautiful princess had been there again.

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"Yes," they replied, "but she went away in a very great hurry as soon as the clock struck twelve. She left one of her slippers behind, the prince picked it up and could do nothing but admire it till the ball was over. He is evidently deeply in love with the beautiful princess to whom the slipper belongs." This was the fact. For next day the king's heralds were sent out, and proclaimed by sound of trumpet that the prince desired to marry the lady whose foot the slipper would exactly fit. So all the ladies of the Court, Princesses, Duchesses, Marchionesses, Countesses, Dames, and ladies of every degree offered themselves, but not one could get her foot into the slipper, it was so small. Then it came to the turn of Cinderella's sisters, who made quite sure it would fit them, but although they used a shoe-horn and stretched and pinched all sorts of ways, it was of no use. The slipper was much too small for their broad feet.

Cinderella helped them all she could, and when at last they were obliged to give up the attempt as hopeless, she said, laughing, "Let me see if it will fit me."

Her sisters laughed outright: "Fit you! a likely thing indeed; you had better try."

The gentleman of the Court who had been entrusted with the slipper looked down at Cinderella's foot, and thought to himself, "it is not much too large, I am sure, if it is any. Sit down, miss, and let me try it on."

So Cinderella sat down and the gentleman put the slipper to her toes. And her foot went in beautifully, and the slipper looked as if

it had been made for her.

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"Who'd have thought it ?" said the youngest. "I suppose you picked it up in the road.”

Just at this moment Cinderella's god-mother arrived, "What, my child," she said, “going to a wedding? But you are not dressed."' Then she waved her wand, and instantly Cinderella appeared arrayed in more beautiful clothes than she had ever appeared in before. Her two sisters now recognised in her the beautiful princess they had seen at the ball, and fell at her feet to beg forgiveness for their unkind treatment. Cinderella raised them up, and said that she fully forgave them from her heart, and begged that they would in future try to love her. Then Cinderella was conducted to court, and there was a grand procession, and she looked more amiable than ever. After a few days she was married to the Prince. Cinderella, who was as generous as she was handsome, gave her sisters apartments in her palace, and they were married on the same day to two noblemen. Cinderella's god-mother, who was present at her wedding, pronounced the following fairy benediction:

Take now our last farewell;

Bright shall be your crown for ever,
And your race shall vanish never!
King! should war and strife betide thee,
Victory be still beside thee,

Queen! from out thy couch shall rise
Heroes, whose high enterprise

Shall, to late posterity,

Prove that they thine offspring be!

Be your kingdom's bound, though vast, By your glories over past:

Every river, every sea

Laden with your vessels be;
Every highway, mart, and street,
Echoing with your horses' feet;
Many a golden harvest meet ye,
Bending its full ears to greet thee;
Let your forests still be seen,
Even in winter, ever green;
Free from sorrow and from strife,
Like twin stars shine on through life,
That through storm or sunny weather
Still do rise and set together.

As in life your troth was plighted,

Be in death your fates united

To depart; and when you die,

Soar like meeting flames on high.

AN INVITATION TO THE COUNTRY.
ALL day, from shrubs by our summer dwelling,
The Easter-sparrow repeats his song,

A merry warbler, he chides the blossoms,
The idle blossoms, that sleep so long.

The black-bird chants from the elm's long branches,
A hymn to welcome the budding year:
The south wind wanders from field to forest,
And softly whispers, the Spring is here!
Come, daughter mine, from the gloomy city,
Before these lays from the elm have ceased;
The violet breathes from our door as sweetly
As in the air of her native East.
Though many a flower in the wood is waking,
The daffodil is our door-side queen ;
She flushes upward the sward already,
To spot with sunshine the early green.
No lays so joyous as these are warbled
From wiry prison in maiden's bower;

No pampered bloom of the green-house chamber
Has half the charm of the lawn's first flower.
Yet these sweet lays of the early season
And these fair sights of its sunny days,
Are only sweet when we fondly listen,
And only fair when we fondly gaze.
There is no glory in star or blossom
Till looked upon by a loving eye;
There is no fragrance in April breezes

Till breathed with joy as they wander by.
Come Julia dear, for the sprouting willows,
The opening flowers, and the gleaming brooks,
And hollows green in the sun are waiting
Their dower of beauty from thy glad looks.

THE GLOW-WORM.

In the evening of a sultry summer's day, a poor widow was sitting at the window of her little cottage looking into the garden that surrounded it. An agreeable and fragrant odour from the grass which she had been that day cutting was wafted into the room by the gentle breeze, alike pleasant and refreshing. The evening twilight had already disappeared from the horizon, and the moon was now beaming into the room, where contentment and cheerfulness once found an abode. Her little Frederick, a boy six years old, was standing at the corner of the open window, with his ruddy countenance and light curly hair illumined by the rays of the moon.

The poor woman was sitting there in order to rest herself a little after the toil of the day; but heavy as that labour was to her during the oppressive noontide heat, a heavier burden pressed on her mind care and anxiety made her forget all her fatigues. Of her supper, which consisted of milk and bread, she had eaten scarcely a mouthful. Little Frederick was much dejected at seeing his mother so low spirited, and that, instead of finishing her supper, she was weeping bitterly. He laid aside his spoon and left his little basin of milk standing on the table nearly untouched. Maria had become a widow no longer ago than the previous spring. Her lamented husband had saved enough to enable him to purchase the little cottage and the adjoining meadow, and it was by his labour that the green had been planted over with young fruit trees, which now stood Jaden with fruit. He had taken Maria for his wife, though she was but a poor orphan, whose parents had given a good education, but nothing else. She was considered as the most pious, industrious, and wellbehaved girl in the whole village, and very happy in her marriage. The fever, which raged in the village, had deprived Maria of the best of husbands; she herself, while attending his sick bed with all the tender care of an affectionate wife, was also attacked by the disorder, and only recovered after a very severe illness.

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Her husband's illness and her own had caused the widow many heavy expenses, and having incurred some debts, she was threatened with the loss of her little cottage. The husband of Maria had been a long time in the employment of the richest farmer of the place, who esteemed him for his fidelity and studious habits, and had advanced him the sum of three hundred florins in order that he might be able to purchase the cottage and garden attached to it; but under the express condition that he should repay annually the sum of twenty-five florins in cash and an equal amount in labour. This stipulation the husband of Maria had really fulfilled to the time of his sickness, so that the debt amounted to only fifty florins; of this the widow was quite certain.

However, the farmer happening to die from the same disorder, his heirs, a son-in-law and a daughter, found the bill to the full amount of the original debt among his papers without being aware that it had been nearly all repaid, for the farmer had never mentioned one word of it to them, and they therefore demanded the whole amount of the bill from the poor widow. The frightened woman assured them that her deceased husband had paid off the whole of the debt, with the exception of fifty florins, before he died; but all her protestations were of no avail, and the young farmer accused her of wilful falsehood, and commenced a law-suit against her. As she was unable to procure any legal proofs that any part of the debt had been paid by her husband, she was condemned to pay the whole of it; and as the widow had no other property left to her besides this cottage and garden, it was threatened to be sold by auction, and the coming day was the one fixed upon for the sale by the creditors.

This intelligence the poor widow had received from a neighbour just after she had finished her day's work, and it was owing to this sad news that Maria was sitting overwhelmed with grief at her window. Every now and then she cast a sorrowful look up at the brilliant sky or upon her little Frederick, and sometimes fixed her eyes on vacancy, till at last she found relief by shedding a flood of tears. It was a melancholy and heart-rending scene.

"Good God," she said to herself, "then it is for the last time that I have to-day cut the grass of my little meadow; the first ripe plums which I have been to-day plucking for my Frederick are then the last fruits which the poor boy will taste from the trees which his father planted with much labour and care; nay, perhaps it is the last night that we shall sleep in the cottage! to-morrow, this my home, may belong to another, and who can tell if he will not make us quit it at once. God knows where we shall find a refuge to-morrow night, perhaps only in the open air!" and she began to sob more bitterly than ever.

Little Frederick, who had remained motionless in the corner of the room, now approached his mother and said to her, weeping and sobbing all the while, "Dear mother, do not cry so, do not you recollect what father told us, when he was dying on the bed there? 'Do not weep so much,' said he, God is the father of poor orphans

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and widows; call on Him in your troubles and He will help you!' | read as follows: "On St. Martin's day I settled my account with and is it not true ?" asked Frederick. Richard Whitton, and he owes me now fifty florins only."

"Yes, dear child," replied his mother, "he said so." "Well then," replied the child, "why do you weep so long? pray to God, and He will assist you in your trouble. Or do you think God is not so rich; oh yes! He is richer even than the farmer. Do but look out of the window to Him belong the moon and all the stars. Father often said that the whole world is His: why should we then weep and so torment ourselves? Come, let us pray at once to God, He is sure to help us. Do you but begin, I will follow you in your prayer." "Good child," cried the mother, "you are right," and some rays of hope began already to soothe her grief and to draw milder tears from her eyes. She then lifted up her hands in prayer, and raised her eyes to heaven, the little boy lifting his tiny hands also, and the bright moon shone on mother and child as they knelt and glorified them. The mother then began the following prayer, whilst the child repeated it after her word for word:

"Our Father, who art in heaven, look down upon a poor mother and her child; a poor widow and a poor orphan are looking up to thee. We are in great distress and have no refuge here on earth; but thou art rich in mercies; thou hast told us to call upon thee in our troubles, and that thou wilt be our refuge and our help. We now pray to thee, do not let us be cast out from this cottage, do not allow a poor little orphan to be deprived of his inheritance, or if in thy inscrutable judgment thou hast so ordained it for us, oh! then let us find another resting-place on thy wide earth; send consolation into our hearts that they break not when we shall be obliged to forsake our little dwelling, and when from yonder hill we take a last farewell of it."

The poor widow, filled with joy, embraced her child, and exclaimed in ecstacy, "Oh! dear Frederick, .thanks to heaven, now we shall not be obliged to leave our home-we may still remain here." "Is it not I, mother," cried the little urchin, "who am the cause of this? If I had not begged so hard of you to remove the chest of drawers, you would not have found the book, which might have remained there for ever without our being aware of it." "Oh!

The mother was for a moment silent, but then she said: my dear child, in this was the hand of Providence. I tremble in fear and reverence when I think of it; for was it not just when we were praying that the glittering insect came into the room, and, as it were, lighted a candle to show us where the book lay? Yes, God guides everything, even the most trivial; nothing occurs by chance; not a sparrow falls to the ground without the knowledge of God. Be mindful of this all your life-time, and put your trust always in Him-but especially in the time of your trouble, for to Him it is easy to help and to save. He need not send us a shining angel; He can accomplish it through a little creeping insect." The poor widow could not close an eye all night for joy, and soon after break of day she hastened to the judge of the place. The judge sent for the heir, who came at once; the handwriting of the deceased farmer was acknowledged by him to be genuine, and he felt much ashamed at having accused the widow of falsehood. But the judge told him that he must recompense her for the shame and the trouble he had put upon her, which he declared himself willing to do. On the widow narrating the particulars of her evening prayers, and the appearance of the shining glow-worm, the judge exclaimed, "Here the providence of God was manifest, his help evident."

The widow could not proceed any further, and looking up to heaven, her face bathed in tears, she remained silent, when her little boy, who was still in the attitude of prayer, called out "O mother! The young farmer was much affected by it; and with tears in look, only look: tell me what is that; here I see a little light moving his eyes he said, "Yes, so it is: God is the father of the widow and in the air, a little star flying: look here, it moves along the window-orphan, and also their avenger. Pardon me that I treated you so oh! now it comes into the room. How beautiful and splendid it harshly, it was done under a mistake. However, in order to redress shines, almost as bright as the evening star; now it moves along the the ills I have caused you, I make you a present of the fifty florins wall!-oh! is it not wonderful ?" you are still indebted to me; and, should you ever be in distress, I wish you to come to me for assistance: it shall always be granted you, for I now see clearly that he who puts his trust in God, him does He not forsake. Should I ever be in embarrassment, or my wife become a widow and my children orphans, may He help us through as He has helped you now.”

"That is a glow-worm, dear Frederick," said the mother; "during the day it is an insignificant looking caterpillar, but in the night it has this wonderful appearance."

"May I catch it," said the boy; "will it not hurt me, and shall I not burn my fingers with the little burning light?"

"It will not burn you," said the mother smiling though in tears; "catch it and examine it well, but do not hurt it. This also is one of the wondrous works of the Almighty."

The little boy had by this time forgotten all his grief, and was intent only on catching the glow-worm, which had now approached nearer to the floor, and was crawling about under the tables and chairs. "Oh! what a pity," he exclaimed. The shining insect had just crawled under a large chest of drawers which stood near the wall, while he was attempting to lay hold of it; and looking under the drawers, "I see it," he cried; "there it is, quite near the corner, and the white wall, the floor, and everything is glistening around it; but I cannot reach it, my arm is too short."

"Have patience," cried the mother, "it will soon come forth again."

The boy waited for a little while, but came again to his mother, saying with a mild, beseeching voice, "Mother, pray do reach it for me, or be so kind as to move away the drawers a little from the wall, and I can easily catch it myself"

The mother got up and removed the drawers; the little urchin then took hold of the glow-worm, and looked at it with as much delight as ever a prince or princess did on the finest and brightest jewel.

But the attention of the mother was soon drawn to a different object. While removing the chest of drawers, she had heard something fall down, that had been held between it and the wall, and on stooping to lift it up, she uttered a loud scream. "Heavens!" she exclaimed, "now we are at once freed from our troubles; here is the account-book for which I have been so long searching in vain. Ha! I believed that it was destroyed by some one during my severe illness, when I was lying quite senseless in my fever. Now all will be right again, as it may be clearly proved that my late husband had duly discharged the debt which I am now called upon to pay again. Who would have thought that this book was lying behind the drawers, a piece of furniture we purchased with the cottage, and which has never been moved from its place since our coming here."

She now lighted a candle and began to turn over the leaves, whilst tears of joy trickled down her cheeks. All turned out as she expected, every item was written down as her late husband had paid it to the deceased farmer, who had given his receipt. For on the last page it stood in the hand-writing of the old farmer himself, and it

QUEEN MAB.

BY THOMAS HOOD.

A LITTLE fairy comes at night,

Her eyes are blue, her hair is brown,
With silver spots upon her wings,
And from the moon she flutters down.
She has a little silver wand,

And when a good child goes to bed,
She waves her wand from right to left,
And makes a oircle round its head.
And then it dreams of pleasant things,
Of fountains filled with golden fish,
And trees that bear delicious fruit,

And bow their branches at a wish. Of arbours filled with dainty scents, From lovely flowers that never fade: Bright flies that glitter in the sun,

And glow-worms shining in the shade. And talking birds with gifted tongues

For singing songs and telling tales, And pretty dwarfs to show the way Through fairy hills and fairy dales. But when a bad child goes to bed, From left to right she waves her rings, And then it dreams all through the night Of only ugly, horrid things! Then lions come with glaring eyes,

And tigers growl,-a dreadful noise; And ogres draw their cruel knives

To shed the blood of girls and boys. Then stormy waves rush on to drown, And raging flames come scorching round; Fierce dragons hover in the air,

And serpents crawl along the ground. Then naughty children wake and weep,

And wish the long black night away; But good ones love the dark, and find The night as pleasant as the day.

THE DUTIFUL SON.

FREDERICK, the late king of Prussia, one morning rang the bell of his cabinet; but, nobody answering, he opened the door of the antechamber, and found his page fast asleep upon a chair. He went up to awake him, and coming nearer observed a paper in his pocket, upon which something was written. This excited his curiosity. He pulled it out and found that it was a letter from the page's mother, the contents of which were nearly as follows:- She returned her son many thanks for the money he had saved out of his salary and had sent to her; which had proved a very timely assistance. God would certainly reward him for it: and if he continued to serve God and his king conscientiously, he could not fail of success in the world."

Upon reading this the king stepped softly into his closet, fetched some ducats, and put them with the letter into the page's pocket. Se then rang the bell, till the page awoke and came into his cabinet. "You have been asleep, I suppose," said the king. The page could not deny it, but stammering out an excuse, in his embarrassment, he put his hand into his pocket, and felt the ducats; he immediately pulled them out, turned pale, and looked at the king, with tears in his eyes.-"What is the matter with you?" said the king. "Oh, sire," replied the page, "somebody has contrived my ruin: I know nothing of this." "God has given it you," said the king; "send the money to your mother: give my respects to her, and inform her that I will take care of both her and you."

LITTLE BY LITTLE.
"LITTLE by little," an acorn said,
As it slowly sank in its mossy bed;
"I am improving every day,
Hidden deep in the earth away."
Little by little each day it grew;
Little by little it sipped the dew;
Downward it sent out a thread-like root;
Up in the air sprung a tiny shoot.
Day after day, and year after year,
Little by little, the leaves appear;

And the slender branches spread far and wide,
Till the mighty oak is the forest's pride.

Far down in the depths of the dark blue sea,
An insect tribe work ceaselessly:
Grain by grain they are building well,
Each one alone in its little cell,
Moment by moment, and day by day,
Never stopping to rest or play.

Rocks upon rocks they are rearing high,
Till the top looks out on the sunny sky;
The gentle wind and the balmy air,
Little by little, bring verdure there;
Till the summer sunbeams gaily smile
On the buds and flowers of the coral isle.
"Little by little," said a thoughtful boy,
"Moment by moment, I'll well employ,
Learning a little every day,

And not spending all my time in play.
And still this rule in my mind shall dwell,
Whatever I do I will do well.

"Little by little, I'll learn to know
The treasured wisdom of long ago;

And one of these days perhaps will see,

That the world will be the better for me." And do you not think that this simple plan Made him a wise and a useful man?

LETTER FROM GENERAL HAVELOCK TO HIS LITTLE BOY.- My dear George, This is your birthday, and here I sit, in sight of the house in which you were born, five years ago, to write you a letter. Now, though a little boy, you ought to have wisdom enough, when you get these lines, to call to mind how very good God was to you on this day, in preserving the life of your dear mamina, who was so sick that no one thought she would recover. At that time, too, I was in very poor health, but am now so much better, by God's mercy, that I have not had any suffering to complain of since I returned to India-indeed, since I saw you last, when I got on board my steamer at Bonn, to go up to Mainz, cn my way to India. They tell me that, nowadays, it is the fashion for little boys, like you, to do no work till they are seven years old; so, if you are spared, you have two more years of holiday; but then you must begin to labour in earnest. And I will tell what you will have to learn. The first thing is to love God, and to understand His law, and obey it, and to believe and love Jesus Christ, since He was sent into the world to do good to all people who will believe in Him. Then as it is likely you will be brought to be a soldier in India, you will have to be taught to ride well, and a little Latin, and a great deal of mathematics, which are not easy; and arithmetic, and English history, and French and German, Hindostanee, drawing and fortification. Now you will say this is a great deal-quite a burden, and a cart-load of learning. But if you are from the first very industrious, and never let any day but the Sabbath pass over without four hours' diligent study, at least, you will soon find that the mountain of learning before you is cut down into a very little hill indeed."

TEENY-TINY.

ONCE upon a time there was a teeny-tiny woman lived in a teeny-tiny house in a teeny tiny village. Now, one day this teeny-tiny woman put on her teeny-tiny bonnet, and went out of her teeny-tiny house to take a teeny-tiny walk. And when this teeny-tiny woman had gone a teeny-tiny way, she came to a teeny-tiny gate; so the teeny-tiny woman opened the teeny-tiny gate, and went into a teeny-tiny churchyard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had get into this teeny-tiny churchyard, she saw a teenytiny bone on a teeny-tiny grave, and the tecny-tiny woman said to her teeny-tiny self, "This teeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-tiny soup for my teeny-tiny supper." So the teeny-tiny woman put the teeny tiny bone into her teeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her teeny-tiny house. Now when the teeny tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house, she was a teeny tiny tired; so she put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny cupboard; and when the teeny tiny woman had been to sleep a teeny tiny time, she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard, which said, "Give me my bone!" And this teeny-tiny woman was a teenytiny frightened, so she hid her tecny-tiny head under the teeny tiny clothes, and went to sleep again. And when she had been to sleep again a teenytiny time, the teeny-tiny voice again cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny louder, "Give me my Lone!" This made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head a teenytiny further under the teeny-tiny clothes. And when the teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard, said again a teeny-tiny louder, "Give me my bone!" And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened, but she put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in her loudest teeny-tiny voice, "Take it!"

THE SULTAN AND HIS FALCON.

A CERTAIN Sultan was passionately fond of hawking. Amongst his falcons was one which he esteemed for its rare qualities above all the others. The sight of this bird was as piercing as a lynx's, and its flight as rapid as lightning. The Sultan took care of this courageous and intelligent crcature himself, and often held it on his hand

One day, while hunting, he launched his falcon at a gazelle; the bird cut the air with a rapid flight: the gazelle, seeing its enemy above its head, hastened its course, and scarcely seemed to touch the earth with its light foot; the king urged his horse on, and was in a moment separated from all his surrounding train. The gazelle, however, in spite of all the falcon's efforts, had the good fortune to escape from its pursuit.

The heat was now extreme, and the king, overcome by it, looked around for a running stream to assuage the thirst by which he was tormented. He discovered one, and unloosed the golden cup which hung at the bow of the saddle. As the water came only drop by drop, he was a long time in filling it; when, raising it to his mouth, the falcon, which was on his wrist, with a stroke of his wing, overset the cup. The Sultan, after an infinity of pains, filled it afresh; but the falcon, with a second stroke of his wing, again deprived him of his expectation.

The monarch's patience was then exhausted, and, in a transport of fury, he dashed the falcon on the ground with so much force that it lay dead at his feet.

At this moment came up one of the prince's grooms, who saw the cup overturned, and the falcon lifeless. The Sultan informed him of the bird's offence, and the vengence he had taken. He then commanded him to search out the head of the stream, that he might draw the water with greater facility; the attendant advanced a few paces, and discovered a fountain, in the middle of which an enormous serpent was extended; he returned in a great fright, and informed the Sultan of what he had seen.

"I have, then," said the Prince, with a deep sigh, "deprived of life the very creature which has just preserved my own! From that poisoned source flowed the water which iny faithful falcon prevented me froin drinking."

ANECDOTE OF GAUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN.-He was the son of a mason, and every Saturday night the workmen came to his house to receive their wages. Some among them worked overtime, for which they were entitled to receive additional pay. One evening the mason was adding up the amount he had to pay, while his little son, three years old, was lying in bed, but not asleep, in the same room. "Father," said the child, sitting up in his bed, "your account is wrong; it should be so much," naming the sum. His father added up the items again, and found that he had really made the mistake his child had pointed out.--When he was seven years old little Gauss was sent to a primary school. According to the custom of those days, the teacher moved about among his pupils with a cane in his hand, which he usei very frequently and unmercifully. Sums were given out to a score or more of boys at a time, and when worked out, each handed up his slate to the master to have the result examined. Woe to him whose slate exhibited an error! - there was no stint in the number or weight of the blows bestowed upon his back. Little Gauss entered the mathematical class. One day the teacher gave out a problem in arithmetical progression. He had scarcely finished stating it when young Gauss handed up the slate to the master, saying "I have done it." The other pupils had only just begun the terrible problem. The teacher walked about among his pupils, as usual, looking occasionally at little Gauss with a mocking eye of pity. But the boy awaited the examination without the least concern, as he had no doubt of the accuracy of his work. The teacher was greatly astonished to find, when he came to examine all the slates, that little Gauss's was the only one that was correct. All the others had to br rectified by the usual methods.

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THERE was a youth, and a well beloved youth,

And he was a squire's son;

He loved the bailiff's daughter dear,
That lived in Islington.

Yet she was coy, and would not believe,
That he did love her so,

No, nor never at any time would she

Any countenance to him show
But when his friends did understand
His fond and foolish mind,
They sent him up to fair London,
An apprentice for to bind.

And when he had been seven long years,
And never his love could see:
Many a tear have I shed for her sake,
When she little thought of me.
And then all the maids of Islington,
Went forth to sport and play,
All but the bailiff's daughter dear-
She secretly stole away.

She pulled off her gown of green,
And put on ragged attire,
And to fair London she would go,
Her true love to enquire.

And as she went along the high road,
The weather being hot and dry,
She sat her down upon a green bank,
And her true love came riding by.
She started up with a colour so red,
Catching hold of his bridle-rein:
One penny, one penny, kind sir, she said,
Will ease me of much pain.

Before I give you one penny, sweet heart,

Pray tell me where you were born:

At Islington, kind sir, she said,
Where I have had many a scorn.

I prythee, sweet heart, tell to me,

O tell me whether you know

The bailiff's daughter of Islington ?—
She is dead, sir, long ago.

If she be dead, then take my horse,
My saddle and bridle also:

For I will into some far country,
Where no man shall me know.

O stay! O stay! thou goodly youth

She standeth by thy side:

She is here alive, she is not dead,

And ready to be thy bride.

O farewell grief, and welcome joy,
Ten thousand times therefore;
For now I have found mine own true love,
Whom I thought I should never see more.

THE Queen of Hearts,
She made some tarls
All on a summer's day;
The Knave of Hearts
He stole those tarts,
And with them ran away.

The King of Hearts
Call'd for those tarts,

And beat the Knave full sore;
The Knave of Hearts
Brought back those tarts,

And said he'd steal no more.

The King of Spades
He kissed the maids,

Which vexed the Queen full sore;

The Queen of Spades
She beat those maids,

And turned them out of door.

The Knave of Spades
Grieved for these jades,
And did for them implore;
The Queen, so gent',
She did relent,

And vow'd she'd thump no more.

The King of Clubs,

He often snubs

His loving Queen and wife

The Queen of Clubs
Returns him snubs,

And all is noise and strife.

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The Knave of Clubs Gives winks and rubs, And says he'll take her part; For when our kings

Will do such things, They should be made to smart. The Diamond King I fain would sing, And likewise his fair Queen; But that the Knave,

A haughty slave,

Must needs step in between. Good Diamond King, With hempen string This haughty Knave destroy; Then may your Queen, With mind serene, Your royal throne enjoy.

LITTLE JACK HORNER.
JACK HORNER was a pretty lad,
Near London he did dwell;
His father's heart he made full glad,
His mother loved him well.

She often set him on her lap,

To make all smooth beneath;
And fed him with sweet sugar'd pap,
Because he had no teeth.

While little Jack was sweet and young,
If he by chance should cry,
His mother pretty sonnets sung,
With lulla-baby-by.

A pretty boy, a curious wit,
All people spoke his praise;
And in the corner he would sit
On Christmas holidays.

Jack Horner in the corner,

Eating Christmas pudding and pie With his thumbs pulls out the plums, Crying what a good boy am I.

IT IS A PLEASANT DAY.
COME, my children, come away!
For the sun shines bright to-day;
Little children, come with me,
Birds and brooks, and posies see:
Get your hats and come away,
For it is a pleasant day.
Everything is laughing, singing,
All the pretty flowers are springing,
See the kitten full of fun,
Sporting in the pleasant sun:
Children, too, may sport and play,
For it is a pleasant day.

Bring the hoop, and bring the ball,
Come with happy faces all;

Let us make a merry ring,

Talk, and laugh, and dance and sing:

Quickly, quickly, come away

For it is a pleasant day!

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CRADLE SONG.

SLEEP my baby, sleep my boy;
Rest your weary little head,
'Tis your mother rocks her baby,
In his little cradle bed.

Lullaby, lulla-lulla-by.

All the little birds are sleeping,
Every one has gone to rest,
And my darling one is sleeping
In his pretty cradle nest.
Lullaby, lulla-lulla-by.

Sleep, oh, sleep my darling boy,
Wake to-morrow fresh and strong
'Tis mother sits beside you,
Singing you a cradle song,
Lullaby, lulla-lulla-by.

your

A CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER. ERE on my bed my limbs I lay,

God grant me grace my prayers to say; O God! preserve my mother dear In strength and health for many a year; And, O! preserve my father too, And may I pay him reverence due; And may I iny best thoughts employ To be my parents' hope and joy; And, O! preserve my brothers both From evil dangers and from sloth; And may we always love each other, Our friends, our father, and our mother. And still, O Lord! to me impart An innocent and grateful heart; That after my last sleep I may Awake to thy eternal day.

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