mē into the shape of a coat. I was then sew'd up by some journeymen, who sat cross-legg'd on a table; and when I was finisht I was sent to you; and ever since, I have cover'd the back of a human being instead of that of a sheep."

Edward was much entertain'd with the story of the coat: "But these bright buttons," said hē, are not made of wool; have you nothing to say about them?"

"They were perfect strangers to mē, till they were sew'd on," said the coat; "I know nothing about them, they must speak for themselves."

THE HISTORY OF THE BUTTONS.

Upon this, the whole row of buttons raised their shärp voices "at once, which sounded like the gingling of so many little bells. This made such a confused noise, that Edward could not distinguish a word they said. He therefōre, in a stērn tōne commanded silence; and, laying hōld of one of them with his finger and thumb, he said, Come, Mr. Button, let me hear the story from you, while all the rest remain quiet." Pleased by this preference, the face of the button shone brighter than usual, and in a small, shrill, but distinct voice, he began thus:

"We lay for a long time under ground; not bright and shining as you now see us, but

mixt up with dirt and rubbish. How long we remain'd there it is impossible for me to say; for aş it waş âlwayṣ därk, there was no telling day from night, nor any means of counting weeks and years.

"But could you not hear the church-clock strike ?" said Edward; "that would have tōld you how time past."

"O no,” replied the button, "if wẽ had had ears we could not have heard, so deep were wē buried (pr. berrid) in the bow-els of the earth.” "O dear! how dismal that must have been !" exclaim'd Edward."

"Nor for us who neither thought nor felt," replied the button. "Well, after having lain there for ages perhaps, âll at once there was an ōpening made in the ground, and men came down where we lay, and dug us up. They tâlked about a fine vein of copper. 'I am glad we have reacht it at last,' said they, it will repay us âll our labor!' They then put us into a basket, and we were taken up above ground, and into day-light. The glare of light was sō strong to us, who had been so lon

in utter därkness, that, if we had had eỹeş, it woüld âlmost have blinded us. Well, after that, wē were püt into a fiery furnace.”

"I am sūre ÿoü must have been glad then

that you could not feel," said Edward; "and were you burnt to ashes ?"

"O no!" replied the button; "copper is a metal, and metals will not burn; but we were melted and as the earth and rubbish which were mixt with us do not melt, we ran out through some hōleṣ that were made on purpose for us to escape from our dirty companions, who were not fit society for us. We were then imprison'd in molds, where we were left to cool and become solid again. Men then came with hammers, and beat us till wē became quite flat. Every time they struck us, wē halloo'd out as loud aṣ wē coüld, and our crieș resounded to a great distance; but they went on âll the same." "What!" exclaim'd Edward, "had you voices to cry out?"

"No," replied the button; "but do you not know that if you strike against metal it rings or resounds? The sound of a bell is nothing but the metal tongue striking against thē inside of the bell; and you know what a noise it mākes."

66

Well," continued the button, "after we had been beaten into flat sheets, we were sent to the turner's, who cut us into little bits, and then placed us, one after another, into a strange kind of machine, call'd a laṭhe: he held us there

while he turn'd a wheel with his foot so fast that it would have made one giddy."

"That is, if you had had a head to bē giddy," said Edward, laughing. (pr. läfing.)

"When I was taken out of the lathe, I was quite surprised to see what a pretty round shape I had; I wonder'd what was to be done to mē next; for as there was nothing by which I could be sew'd (pr. sōde) on to a coat, I did not think that I was to be made into a button, but supposed I was intended for a piece of money."

Yes, a round flat button is something like a sixpence," said Edward; "but then you were not made of silver."

"True; and I soon found that I was to be a button, for they fasten'd a tail to mē, and rubb'd me for a great length of time, till I became very bright. I was then stuck with the rest of us on a sheet of thick white paper."

"Oh! I remember," cried Edward; "you were all stuck on the paper when the tailor show'd you to papä and me, and you look't quite beautiful." Edward then listen'd in expectation of the button continuing his stōry, but it was ended, and his voice was gone.Jane Marcet.

COMPLAINT OF THE DYING YEAR.

"I AM," said he, "the son of old father Time, and the last of a numerous progeny ; for he has had no less than several thousands of us; but it has ever been his fate to see one child expire before another was born. It is the opinion of some, that his own constitution is beginning to break up, and that when he has given birth to a hundred or two mōre of us, his family will be complete, and then he himself will be nō mōre.”

Here the ōld Year câll'd for his account book, and turn'd over the pages with a sorrowful eye. He has kept, it appears, an accurate account of the moments, minutes, (pr. minits) hours and months, which he has issued, and subjoin'd in some places memorandums of the ūseṣ to which they have been applied, and of the loss he has sustain'd. These particulars it would be tedious to detail, but wē must nōtice one cîrcumstance; upon turning to a certain page in his accounts, the old man was much affected, and the tears stream'd down his furrow'd cheeks as he examined it. This was the register of the fifty-two Sundays which he had issued; and which, of âll the wealth he had to dispose of, has been, it appears, the most scandalously wasted. "These," said he, “ were