"No;" said Mary, "she does not in general,-but see, see," she continued, "putting her face closer to the glass, I am sure I can see the nest in those thick branches; I think we might open it, far enough to put our heads out and peep. The reason we are forbidden to open the windows is, lest the dogs should get in and dirty the furniture, but they could not get in if we only opened it a very little way." Louisa then ran for her stool, and Mary standing on it raised the sash just high enough to put her head out, but the bird was frightened at the noise and did not return. Mary, however, got a full view of the nest, and satisfied herself that it contained young birds.

"Now shut the window again, Mary, quickly," said Louisa, "for there is little Frisk coming over the lawn, and if he sees us here, and the window wide open, he will be in in an instant."

Mary tried to do this, but her haste made her awkward, or perhaps she did not know how to do it, for neither she nor Louisa were allowed to open or shut windows.

"Can you help me, Louisa?"

Louisa quickly brought the other little stool, and sprung up to the side of her sister, but in vain, for together they were unable to close the window; and Frisk, scampering across the lawn, bounded into the room. The little girls were at first overjoyed at seeing their little favourite, and forgot all about their work, and the means by which he had entered the room. They gamboled about with him, and laughter and merriment were at their height, when on a sudden, Frisk cried out violently, and then began to howl and cry piteously.

"What can be the matter?" exclaimed both the little girls at the same time, "what can be the matter with Frisk ?"

"What is the matter?" asked Mrs. Sefton as she entered the room, having been attracted first by the shouts of laughter, and then by the piteous cries of the poor dog. "He has in some way or other hurt his foot severely, for he moves on three feet only, and seems unable to put the other to the ground."

"I am sure, mamma, I don't know what is the matter with him," said Mary.

"Nor do I," said Lousia.

"How came the window open? inquired Mrs. Sefton.

"We opened it to look at a little bird, mamma," said both the children.

"But it was I who first proposed doing so, mamma," said Mary, "Louisa was at her work till I asked her to come and look at the bird, and then to help me."

"But you know I did help you," said Louisa," or you would not have done it, and then we should not have let Frisk in."

Mrs. Sefton, on examining the foot of the little dog saw that a needle was stieking in it, which sufficiently accounted for his piteous cries. The little animal held up his paws very quietly, while Mrs. Sefton took out the needle and licked her hand to show his gratitude for the relief which she thus afforded him from his sufferings, and was in a few minutes jumping about the room again as nimbly as ever. But presently he seemed glad to escape from the place in which he had suffered so severely and jumped out of the window, which Mrs. Sefton immediately closed after him. The children now

did not feel happy, for Mrs. Sefton looked very grave, and they saw that she was displeased with them, and felt that she had reason to be so. They took up their work without saying a word, and sat down again on their little stools.

"I am sorry," said Mrs. Sefton, "to find that I have two little girls who cannot be trusted to go on with their work even for a short time, without indulging in play and idleness. And you now see the consequence of your silly inattention, and your disobedience. The covers of every chair in the room are soiled by Frisk's feet, who has evidenly been jumping about in the same manner, as if he had been playing with you on the lawn, and the poor little animal himself has been put to severe pain by your carelessness; first, in loosing the needle, and then in allowing him to come into the room. It is well the needle did not run into one of your own feet, for then, perhaps, it might not have been so easily extracted."

"Mamma, I am very sorry," said Mary, "and so am I, Mamma," said Louisa, both of them at the same time wiping their eyes with their papa's pocket handkerchief, on which they were now industriously working.

"I am sorry, too," said Mrs. Sefton, as taking part of a frock from her work-table, she seated herself near the children, and proceeded with the work in which she had been previously engaged. "I am sorry on every account; I am sorry that you take so little interest in working for your papa-that you can only be induced to do it by my sitting with you; and I am very sorry to find that you forget that the eye of God is always upon you, and that He knows whether or not you honour you parents, by attending to their wishes and directions when they are absent from you

as well as when they are present with you. I wished to walk into the village with your papa, and had intended to have given you the pleasure of going with us, your misconduct, however, has prevented this; I shall not now take you, and I cannot now go myself."

"Pray do go, mamma," said Mary, "indeed, we will be very quiet and attentive to our work."

"It is too late now," said Mrs. Sefton, " your papa has left the house, and has already passed down the Lime-tree walk." "And it was all my fault," said Mary, " for I began to be idle both times."

"But I was quite ready to join you," said Louisa, as she put her arm round her sister's neck, "you need not always be excusing me and taking the whole blame on yourself."

'Mary is right," said Mrs. Sefton, "in taking the blame of her own thoughtlessness on herself; and you are right Louisa, in endeavouring to make her faults appear as light as you can in my eyes. It is a great comfort to me to see you thus kind and affectionate towards each other,—and I hope that you will encourage each other also in doing at all times what you know to be your duty. When the work was finished, Mrs. Sefton told the little girls, that they might go into the garden to play; but they had not quite recovered their spirits, and said that they would rather remain in the house. Mrs. Sefton, however, preferred their going out for their usual air and exercise; and as it was quite evident that the children felt sorrow for their inattention, she said she would go down the Lime-tree walk with them that they might meet their papa on his return from

the village. As they passed under the rose-tree where they had seen the bird, they wished very much to look into the nest, but they felt ashamed of their late misconduct, and did not like to mention their wish to their mamma. They walked quietly on, and their usual merry tone did not return till they met their papa accompanied by Frisk. Mrs. Sefton took her husband's arm, and the two little girls having jumped up to their papa for a kiss, ran on before with Frisk, and soon recovered their usual cheerfulness.

JESUS, tender, Shepherd, hear me,
Bless Thy little lamb to night;
Through the darkness be Thou with me,
Watch my sleep till morning light.

All this day Thy Hand has led me,
And I thank Thee for Thy care;

Thou hast clothed me, warmed, and fed me,
Listen to my Evening Prayer.

Let my sin be all forgiven,

Bless the Friends I love so well,
Take me when I die to Heaven,
Happy there with Thee to dwell.

M. B. R.