HAVE you ever heard of Merry Andrew? Listen and I will tell you all about him.

He was a fine, little fellow with a great curly head of flaxen hair. He had a pair of bright, twinkling, roguish, blue eyes, fat cheeks, snub nose, and a mouth-ah, I'll not say how wide it was. But he seemed bent on making it wider and wider by frequent laughing.

Ah! he was a splendid little fellow, this Andrew, and it was because he was always so happy and cheerful that he was christen'd Merry. His mother was a washer woman and she used to take him with her when she went to hang out the clothes. There he would sit on the grass, and play with an apple, as happy as a king. When he got tired of throwing it up, then he had only to throw it down; next, to the right, then to the left, and so on. He had plenty to do, I can tell you.

If

Merry Andrew had his little friends too. a butterfly came skimming past his face, or if a bird began to sing in the nearest tree, he would crow with delight. Then there was old Moor, the little dog that used to find out where Andrew was, just if some body had gone and told him. He used to let the little boy pull his ears or his stumpy tail, aye, and seem to like it too.

By-and-bye Andrew learned to talk, and then to sing; after that, to walk, and then to jump and run. And in a very little time he could

go errands for his father, who was a shoe'maker. He had a busy life of it, what with watching the clothes' lines for his mother, and going messages

for his father. But where ever he went Moor was his constant companion.

It was very strange how very soon all the neighbours knew this little boy. Öther little boys they took ever so long to know, but Merry Andrew was known far and wide before he was five years old. I suppose the reason was, that he seemed always so happy; and people like to see happy faces, you know.

There was Tomkins the baker, when he saw little Andrew coming tripping along with Moor at his heels, he was sure to call him in. Then he would give him a nice little biscuit or cake— and all for the sight of his merry face.

Then Andrew soon became a great little man among the village children. A game was nothing without our fat, rosy-cheeked little boy. He had such a knack of keeping up the spirits of each and all, and when any two naughty children used to quarrel, Andrew would run between them, and make such funny faces, first at one and then at the other-till at last they both burst out laughing and became friends again.

Merry Andrew was not only the leader in all the romps of the village green, he was also a clever lad at other things. Who could match him in swimming or leaping? The assembled neighbourhood answer with one voice, "Nobody." Who could make the best whistles, or cut the funniest figures out of carrots and turnips? Merry Andrew, to be sure, and no one else.

husband shoemaker

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naughty apprentice washerwoman enough watchman

MERRY ANDREW BECOMES A SWEEP.

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"Well, what of that!" grumbled the old man, his father. Jumping, and cutting capers and turnips will not make his bread. There he goes smiling, with his nose in the air! I should like to see him make a shoe, that's all."

Mothers

But his mother would take his part. always do, do they not? And she would say, "Well, well, good man, better let him carry his little nose high than low; and as to making a shoe, why, there's time enough for that." Then the old man would smile, and say no more. The old lady at length saw that she was only standing in her boy's light by coddling him at home. So she agreed with her worthy husband to send Andrew apprentice to his uncle, the chimney-sweep. So they told little Andrew of their plan, and he was quite willing.

Now, Andrew's mother had all along fore told that he would rise in the world, just as other mothers do of their little boys. But the poor washer woman lived to see it, for a day or two after she saw him rise out of a chimney. He was all black and covered with soot, but his mother knew him well enough for all that. And when Andrew spied his mother, he nodded and grinned, and showed his teeth, that now looked like a box of pure ivory, as indeed, it was.

O, I do believe Merry Andrew would have been quite happy at the bottom of the sea, among the tiny fishes. There at the top of the highest chimneys in the village, he would perch and sing like a lark, and all the good neighbours would look up and smile.

on

This kind of life did not at all frighten Andrew; the contrary, he grew very fond of dizzy heights. Really and truly, he was just as fond of them as of the baker's nice biscuits, and he thought to himself, "What a happy life I should lead on the top of the old church tower!" Now, in these days, a watchman used to have a snug little room at the top of the tower. There he blew his horn at morning, noon, and night, and gave the alarm in case of fire. And this was what Merry Andrew was after, the cunning rogue!

use..

When the mothers tried to frighten naughty children by telling them the "black man was coming to take them away, it was of no Because nothing was better fun to them than a sight of little Andrew as he went along the streets. You might know, a mile away, that it was the merry little sweep, by the string of little children following him.

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caught
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trumpet trumpeter

MERRY ANDREW RISES IN THE WORLD.

Well, Merry Andrew grew up in this way, shed-ding pleasures around his dusky form. And at last things turned in his favor, as they always do to helpful, active, and cheerful boys and girls. The old watch man on the top of the tower fell sick, and took to his bed, poor man, for he was dying. So, of course, he could not see if there was a house on fire ever so far away.

Well, one night the flames rose from the markethall. In less than no time Andrew was on the spot, to be sure, doing his best to put out the fire. But he soon saw it was of no use. The fine

building must burn to the ground. So what did he do, but rush into the blazing rooms to see what he could save. He caught sight of a big box, and he brought it out. Now, this box was of more worth than all the building, for it was full of bank notes and papers.

So, next day, the magistrates sent for the brave little lad, and asked him to name his own reward. And he said, "May it please your worships to make my father the watchman." This they at once did, praising Andrew into the bargain not only as a brave, but also as a modest lad.

Thus the old shoemaker and his wife also rose in the world, and the old man sat cobbling up above what the good folks were wearing out below. While young Andrew had a spell at the horn every morning and evening before and after his chimneysweeping. At length he became so fond of trumpeting, and so clever a trumpeter, that he joined a band, and soon mounted to be leader of a band of soldiers. Thus Merry Andrew gave up chimneysweeping and lived happily as ever, and well-to-do all his days.

THE NEW MOON.

DEAR Mother, how pretty
The moon looks to-night,

She was never so cunning before;
Her two little horns

Are so sharp and so bright,
I hope she'll not grow any more.

If I were up there
With you and my friends,
I'd rock in it nicely you'd see,
I would sit in the middle
And hold by both ends,

Oh, what a bright cradle 'twould be.