"You need not be so pert or impudent," replied the lion, "for, whatever your thoughts may be, that bray of your's does not promise much for their beauty.'

""

"Bray, indeed!" said the jackass, "if you call that a bray, I should like to know what you would call a roar; and he began to wag his tail and to fancy that he looked very awful, for he was indeed very angry, and having lived only with his own fellows, who were not more sensible than he, had not met with his superior until that day, with whose nobility of thought and great strength he was unacquainted, and the lion, seeing his insignificance, was inclined to hide it for the present, in order to teach him a better lesson by and by.

it is.

'Bray, I repeat, it is only a pray, and a very ugly noise You must surely be trying to impose upon me, and be making that noise only in joke; pray do oblige me with

I will frighten him now, thought the simple fellow, and planting himself firmly upon his legs and dilating his nostrils, he gave one of his loudest he-haws, and, after exhausting his breath, looked at the lion and asked what he thought of that.

"A most horrible and detestable bray, and very bad of its kind; come now, a roar, long ears, let me hear a roar?" Long ears! I'll teach you to insult me," screamed the donkey, "my long ears are as handsome as your long beard, at any rate.

"That may be, my simple friend," calmly replied the lion, "you commenced by pretending to roar, and I shall not be satisfied until you do; would you like to hear me

roar, if so I will do it with pleasure, but I must warn you not to be frightened.

"Frightened!" sneered the donkey, "you are a mighty fine fellow indeed to frighten me; why, you would not alarm a mouse, make what noise you could, and so poor Jack thought for he was deceived by the noble and placid bearing of the lion, and secretly resolved to give him a good kick the first time his back was turned.

Will you have one trial more, before I begin, for I really should like to hear you roar?" said the lion, tantalizingly.

"And so you shall," and, inflating his lungs well, he commenced he-haw, he-haw, he-hawing, with all his strength.

"Now will I punish him for his insolence, thought the lion, and throwing false fury into his eyes, he lashed his tail with pretended rage, and gave such a fearful roar that the jackass ceased braying, and ran so fast and so blindly away, that he fell head foremost into a dirty ditch, where he lay trembling all day, in the fear that the lion would come to destroy him, rejoicing at his good fortune in falling where he did, although his coat was torn by the brambles, and he was covered with mud and dirty weeds, and the toads were croaking around him.

The moment the lion ceased roaring he could not help laughing at the defeat of the poor donkey, and as he continued his walk he thought of the many jackasses in the world who pretend to more than they understand, and who pass off for tolerably clever fellowes until they try to roar, when their inability to do so is exposed, and they are

left, like the poor fellow above, to the enjoyment of their bray in a dirty ditch with toads croaking around.

In conclusion, the lion advises his young friends not to pretend to any art, lesson, or performance, until they are thoroughly acquainted with it; they will then be able to roar, to the dismay of those who may oppose them.

The Little Child's Poet's Corner.

SONG OF SPRING.

BY H. J. SLACK, F.G.S.

I'VE banished Winter, saith the Spring,
Awake! arise, ye flowers!
Brisk breezes, blow,

Bright sunshine, glow,

And rouse the young year's powers.

Rush up, ye larks, into the sky,

Sing high, and wake the flowers;

Ye clouds, make haste,

The earth needs taste

Your fertilizing showers.

Ye pretty birds hop on each bush,
And bid its leaves come out.
Jackdaw and rook,

With knowing look,

Now wheel and fly about.

Pick up the grubs, and build your nests With so much noise and chatter, That when you're heard,

Both beast and bird

Will wonder what's the matter.

Let hills, and banks, and rocky pools
Put on their bright array ;

Its petals gold,

Let furze unfold,

To hail the joyous day.

From distant lands, I've told fresh birds

They must assemble here;

And o'er the sea

They come to me,

To taste the Spring's good cheer.

I order, now, that all the world

Be active, up and doing.

To win my favour,

Useful labour

Must come to me a-wooing.