wonderful habits of the insects, the traits of the massive elephant, and the capers of the mischievous monkey ?'

'My friends,' here joined in a tiny voice for the first time, causing the books to stand up on their edges and look over at the corner of the room where lay the little torn Primer, from which it proceeded, 'My friends, I know you all help to make Millie wise and learned; but of what use would be all you can tell if she could not read it? You would be nothing without me!'

'You !' cried the others, in a scornful voice.

'Yes, me,' answered the little torn Primer. 'I taught her her letters. Without knowing them what good would any book be to her ?'

'How tiresome small books are,' said the History.

'I guess I'll take a nap,' yawned the Geography. And so the conversation ended.-Margaret Eytinge, in St. Nicholas.

LUCK.

'Ir's just my luck, mother. I might have known I shouldn't get the place, for all it seemed as though I was sure of it. I'm the most unlucky boy in the world, and I always was, ever since I can remember. There's Osmond Gray, he got the place, just as he does everything. He is no better scholar than I am, but he always comes out ahead.'

This was said in a tone of mingled impatience and regret, as the speaker, a lad of fourteen summers, looked earnestly at his mother. That he was sadly disappointed his face plainly revealed.

'If Mr. Bemis has taken Osmond Gray into the counting-room instead of you, he had a reason for it. If you fail as often as you complain you do, there is a reason for it,' responded Mrs. Crowley. 'I have been afraid, for a good while, that you would grow up to be a bad man.'

That's the way you always talk, mother. It seems as though you blame me for everything that happens.'

'No, I don't, my son; I love you too well for that. love you too well for your own good.'

I'm afraid I

'No, mother, you know you couldn't do that. Uncle Jack says we belong to an unlucky family. He says he always had bad luck, and I suppose I must expect to have it.

He has been his own

'Your uncle has his own luck, my son. enemy. You are not old enough yet to realise it, but he reaps the reward of his own doings. He is kind-hearted and generous; but he is apt to put off till to-morrow what ought to be done to-day. He is never quite ready to do anything that can be left for another time. Then, he has spent a small fortune for liquor and tobacco, and that is the secret of his bad luck. You are a good deal like him, but it would break my heart to have you grow up to be such a man as he is.'

'Why, mother, I thought you loved Uncle Jack!' exclaimed Ned Crowley.

'I do love him. But I know his faults, and he knows them too; though he says its too late for him to change. If you would ask Mr. Bemis why he gave the place in his counting-room to Osmond Gray instead of you I think he would tell you. I don't know how we can live, now my health is so poor, unless you can earn money some

where.'

Mr. Bemis was surprised at receiving a call from Ned Crowley, and still more surprised when he was respectfully asked the reason for his preference in the selection of an under-clerk.

'I know it is a strange question for me to ask,' added the boy.

'It is strange; but as you asked it I will answer it,' was the reply. 'Until within a fortnight I intended to give the place to you. I knew you were a good scholar, a handsome writer, and quick accountant. Then, I knew that your mother needed the help of your wages. But I heard some one say you were like your Uncle Jack, and I began to watch you. I saw you drink a glass of beer in Reed's saloon, and one day I saw you puffing a cigar. That was the way your Uncle Jack began, and I didn't dare to trust you.'

'Thank you for telling me this, Mr. Bemis.' And despite the tremor in his voice and the blushes which burned upon his cheeks, the boy did not shrink from the earnest gaze of his companion. 'I thought it was my luck. Now I've found out it was my fault, and I'll change my habits. If you will give me any kind of a chance to work, I'll do the best I can, and then see where the luck comes. Youth's Temperance Banner.

THE

JUVENILE

MAGAZINE

FOR 1876.

VOL. XXV.

London:

PUBLISHED BY JOHN DICKENSON,

CONFERENCE OFFICES, SUTTON STREET, COMMERCIAL ROAD, EAST.

PRINTED BY F. H. HURD,

PRIMITIVE METHODIST" OFFICE, 122, MILE END ROAD, E.