THE CHILD'S OWN STORY BOOK. A NEW book, little children!—a new book! Come let us look at it;-see how clean and neat it is,-how many pretty pictures there are in it, and pleasant words, I hope too. What is the first story? Oh! it is, THE PLAY-HOUSE. I HAVE got a little play-house under that tree; come pussy, and I will show it to you. The floor is of green grass, and I sit on a couch of moss, and the roof is a bough of the old oak tree, and a little brook goes singing by my door. Ah! here is a little bird come to taste my cake; I will throw it a handful of crumbs. No, no, pussy, you must not catch the little bird. There, now he is gone, and I can see him no longer; he is gone up into the sky, where you, pussy, can not follow him. CHARLEY'S ORANGE. "WOULD Charley like a nice large orange?" "Yes, mamma, if Fanny and Jane may have one too." "But if I give one to Charley only, what will he do with it?" “Divide it into three parts, and give one to Fanny, one to Jane, and eat the ether himself, Mamma." "Why would he not eat it all himself?" "Because Fanny and Jane like oranges as well as Charley does; and it would be unkind not to give them some." "Here, then, is a nice one for Charley -a nice one for Fanny-and a nice one for Jane." THE KITTEN. OH! Charlotte, just look at the kitten, how she lies with her paws tucked up, and her eyes half-shut: is she not a pretty creature? There, now, she is quite awake. Now the cat and she are gone to play: hark how they purr. See how puss jumps and lays back her ears, and |