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KOSCIUSKO. The hero of Poland once wished to send some bottles of good wine to a clergyman at Soluthurn; and as he hesitated to trust them by his servant, lest he should smuggle a part, he gave the commission to a young man of the name of Seltner, and desired bim to take the horse which he himself usually rode. On his return, young Seltner said that he would never ride his horse again, unless he gave him his purse at the same time. Kosciusko inquiring what he meant, he answered; as soon as a poor man on the road takes off his hat and asks charity, the horse immediately stands still, and will not stir till something is given to the petitioner; and as I had no money about me, I was obliged to feign giving something, in order to satisfy the horse.”



“Why do you trouble yourself to fly from flower to flower, in search of honey ? said an earthworm one day to a bee; “ I am sure it must be great toil; now I take my ease, and only lounge about, and can always satisfy my appetite with fine mold, and nothing can be more rich or delicious. Nor have I need to lay up in store for a future day, for the earth is all before me, and I can eat when and where I please, without the plague of filling a hive."

Ah,” replied the bee,“ thou knowest not, poor crawling creature, how much pleasure I have in flying from flower to flower, and how much sweeter honey is than earth; and though thou boastest so much of thy large dish, all who know the taste of mine, know that for food, my hive of honey is worth more than all thy earth.

BOAT SONG. BEND on your oars — for the sky it is dark,

And the wind it is rising apace!
For the waves they are white with their crests all so bright,

And they strive, as if running a race.
Tug on your oars - - for the day's on the wane,

And the twilight is deepening fast;
For the clouds in the sky show the hurricane nigh,

As they flee from the face of the blast.

Stretch on your oars —

for the sun it is down, And the waves are like lions in play, The stars they have fled, and no moon is o’erhead

Or to point, or to cheer our lone way.

Rise on your oars — let the bright star of hope

Be seen 'mid the tempest's wild roar;
And cheer, lads! for we who were born on the sea,

Have weather'd such tempests before.

Rest on your oars

5- for the haven is won, And the tempest may bluster till morn; For the bold and the brave are now freed from the wave,

Where they late roamed so lonely and lorn.

No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears,

gem that twinkling hangs from beauty's ears,
Not the bright stars which heaven's high arch adorn,
Nor vernal sun that gilds the rising morn ;
Shine with such lustre as the tears that streak,
For others' wo, down virtue's manly cheek.

IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. DILIGENCE, industry, and proper improvement are material duties of the young. To no purpose are they endowed with the best abilities, if they want activity for exerting them. Unavailing, in this case, will be every direction that can be given them, either for their temporal or spiritual welfare.

In youth, habits of industry are most easily acquired. In youth, the incentives to it are strongest, from ambition and from duty, from emulation and from hope ; from all the prospects which the beginning of life affords. If, dead to these calls, you already languish in slothful inaction, what will be able to quicken the more sluggish current of advancing years.

Industry is not only the instrument of improvement, but the foundation of pleasure. Industry is the appointed vehicle of every good to man, and is the indispensable condition of our possessing a sound mind in a sound body. Fly, therefore, from idleness, as the certain parent both of guilt and ruin.

ASKING QUESTIONS. Ask questions and many questions, and leave nothing till you are thoroughly informed of it, but be careful of asking only proper questions.

Such pertinent questions are far from being ill-bred, or troublesome to those of whom you ask them : on the contrary, they are a tacit compliment to their knowledge, and people have a better opinion of a young man, when he seems desirous to be informed.

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ONE moonshiny night

With a great appetite
A hog feasted on acorns with all his might.

Quite pleased with his prize,

Both in taste and in size,
While he ate, he devour'd the rest with his eyes.

You know I'm in joke,

When I say that the oak,
Moved a bough to the grunter before she spoke.

But you know too, in fable,

We feel ourselves able
To make anything speak, tree, flower, or table,

Said the oak, looking big,

“I think, Mr Pig,
You might thank me for sending you fruit from my twig.

But, you ill behaved hog!

You devour the prog,
And have no better manners I think than a dog."

He replied, looking up,

Though not ceasing to sup,
Till the acorns were eaten, ay, every cup,

“ I acknowledge to you

My thanks would be due,
If from feelings of kindness my supper you threw.

Tomorrow, good dame,

Give my children the same
And then you with justice may gratitude claim."


He merits nopraise

To the end of his days
Who to those who surround him no service conveys.

“ HE NEVER TOLD A LIE.” MR Park, in his travels through Africa, relates that a party of armed Moors having made a predatory attack on the flocks of a village at which he was stopping, a youth of the place was mortally wounded in the affray. The natives placed him on horseback and conducted him home, while his mother preceded the mournful group, proclaiming all the excellent qualities of her boy, and by her clasped hands and streaming eyes, discovered the inward bitterness of her soul. The quality for which she chiefly praised her boy, formed of itself an epitaph so noble, that even civilized life could not aspire to a higher. “He never," said she with pathetic energy,“ never, never, told a lie.”

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