telling them that neatness was a very essential thing, both for health, and also to render them agreeable in the eye of the world. Robin was a very strong, robust bird, not remarkable for his beauty, but there was a great briskness in his manner which covered many defects, and he was very likely to attract notice. His father judged, from the tone of his chirpings, that he would be a very good songster. Dicky had a remarkably fine plumage; his breast was of a beautiful red; his body and wings of an elegant mottled brown, and his eyes sparkled like diamonds. Flapsy was also very pretty, but more distinguished for the elegance of her shape than for the variety and lustre of her feathers. Pecksy had no outward charms to recommend her to notice; but these defects were supplied by the sweetness of her disposition. Her temper was constantly serene; she was ever attentive to the happiness of her parents, and would not have grieved them for the world; and her affection for her brothers and sisters was so great, that she constantly preferred their interest to her own, of which we have lately given an instance. The kind parents attended to them with unremitting affection, and made their daily visit to Master and Miss Benson, who very punctually discharged the benevolent office of feeding them. The Robin Redbreasts, made familiar by repeated favours, approached nearer and nearer to their little friends by degrees, and at length yentured to enter the room and feed upon the breakfast-table. Miss Harriet was delighted at this circumstance, and Frederick was quite transported; he longed to catch the birds, but his mamma told him that would be the very means to drive them away. Miss Harriet entreated him not to frighten them on any account; and he was prevailed on to forbear, but could not help expressing a wish that he had them in a cage, that he might feed them all day long. "And you do really think, Frederick," said Mrs. Benson," that these little delicate creatures are such gluttons as to desire to be fed all day long? Could you tempt them to do it, they would soon die; but they know better, and as soon as their appetites are satisfied, always leave off eating. Many a little boy may learn a lesson from them. Do not you recollect one of your acquaintance, who, if an apple-pie, or anything else that he calls nice, is set before him, will eat till he makes himself sick ?" Frederick looked ashamed, being conscious that he was too much inclined to indulge his love of delicacies. "Well," said his mamma, "I see you understand who I mean, Frederick, so we will say no more on that subject; only, when you meet with that little gentleman, give my love to him, and tell him I beg he will be as moderate as his Redbreasts." THE DUSTMAN. TUESDAY. As soon as Edward was in bed, the Dustman touched all the pieces of furniture in the room with his little magic wand, whereupon they began to talk; and they talked all about themselves, excepting the spittoon, who stood quite still, and was much vexed at the rest being so vain, all talking about themselves without ever thinking of him who stood so modestly in the corner, and suffered himself to be spit upon. Over the wardrobe there hung a large picture in a gilt frame; it was a landscape, where you might see tall trees, flowers blossoming in the grass, and a river that wound itself round a grove, passing many a grand old castle on its way to the sea. The Dustman touched the picture with his magic wand, and immediately the birds began to sing, the boughs of the trees waved to and fro, and the clouds actually flew; one could see their shadows flit over the landscape. The Dustman then lifted little Edward up to the frame, and Edward put his legs into the picture. There he stood amid the tall grass. He ran to the water's edge, and seated himself in a little boat painted red and white, with sails glittering like silver; six swans, with golden wreaths round their necks, and bright blue stars upon their heads, drew the boat along, nigh a green wood, where the trees were telling stories about robbers and witches, and the flowers were talking of the pretty little fairies, and of what the butterflies had said to them. Most beautiful fishes, with scales like gold and silver, swam behind the boat, every now and then leaping up, so that the water was splashed over Edward's head; gay-plumed birds, red and blue, great and small, flew after him in two long rows; the gnats danced, and the cockchafers said, "Boom, boom." They all wished to accompany Edward, and every one of them had a story to tell. A pleasant voyage was that! The woods were now thick and gloomy, now like beautiful gardens beaming with flowers and sunshine. Large palaces built of crystal or marble rose from among the trees; young princesses stood in the balconies-these were all little girls whom Edward knew well, and with whom he had often played. They stretched out their hands to him, each holding a pretty little image made of sugar, such as are seen in confectioners shops. Edward seized the end of one of these little images as he sailed by, and a princess kept hold of the other, so each got half, the princess the smaller, Edward the larger. At every castle little princes were keeping guard; they shouldered their golden scimitars, and showered down raisins and tin soldiers-these were real princes! Edward sailed sometimes through woods, sometimes through large halls, or the middle of a town. Among others, he passed through the town where his nurse lived-she who had brought him up from his cradle, and who loved him so much. She nodded and beckoned to him as he passed by, and sang the pretty verses she had herself composed and sent to him : "How many, many hours I think on thee, My own dear Edward, still my pride and joy; Thy first low accents it was mine to hear, And all the birds sung with her, the flowers danced upon their stems, and the old trees nodded their heads, whilst the Dustman told stories to them also. SAGACITY OF A NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN. SOME venison suspended in the hut of a Redskin to dry being stolen, the owner plunged into the forest in pursuit of the unknown thief. He had not proceeded far before he met a party of travellers. He asked them if they had seen a little white man, carrying a short rifle, followed by a little short-tailed dog; for he was sure, he said, that this was a faithful description of the person who had stolen his provisions. The travellers had met the thief, and they asked the Indian, who assured them he had never seen him, how it was he could describe him so accurately. "I know the thief is a little short man," replied the Indian, "because he made a pile of stones to stand upon to reach my venison; I know that he is old, because his footsteps, which I have traced among the dead leaves of the forest, are short and near together; I know that he is a Whiteskin because he turns out his toes, which the Redskins never do; I know that he carries a short rifle by the marks of the barrel on the bark of the tree against which it leaned; the footsteps of the dog show me that they were made by a small animal, and the marks made in the dust at the place where he was seated while his master stole my meat showed me the length of his tail, which is very short. HOLGER THE DANE. "THERE is in Denmark an old castle called Kronborg; it stands close by the Sound of Elsinore, where every day large ships, English, Russian, and Prussian, may be seen sailing along. And as they pass the old castle, they salute it with their cannons, Boom!'-and the castle answers with its cannons, 'BOOM! This is the same as saying Good day!' and 'Thank you!' No ships sail past during the winter, for then the Sound is covered with ice, and becomes a very broad highway leading from Denmark to Sweden; the Danish and Swedish flags flutter overhead, and Danes and Swedes walk and drive to and fro-meet and say to each other Good day! Thank you!'-not with the report of cannons, but with a hearty, friendly shake of the hands; and they buy wheaten bread and biscuits of each other, because every one fancies foreign bread the best. But the glory of the scene is still the old Kronborg, and beneath, in those dark, tremendous caverns, where no man can venture in, sits Holger the Dane. He is clothed in iron and steel, he rests his head on his sinewy arm, his long beard hangs over the marble table, into which he seems to have grown fast. There he sleeps and dreams, and in his dreams he sees all that is going on up in Denmark. Every Christmas-eve an angel of God comes to him, and tells him that he has dreamt truly, and that he may sleep on, for Denmark is in no danger. But whenever danger shall threaten her, then will Holger the Dane arise in his might, and as he disengages his beard, the marble table will burst in twain!-then will he come forth and fight in such wise that all the countries of the world shall ring with the fame thereof!" All this about Holger the Dane was told one evening by an old grandfather to his little grandson, and the boy was sure that all his grandfather said must be true. Now this old man was a carver, one of those whose employment is to carve the figure-heads of ships, and as he sat talking to the little boy, he cut out of wood a large image intended to represent Holger the Dane; there he was with his long beard, standing so proudly erect, holding in one hand his broad battle-sword, and leaning the other on his shield with the Danish coat-of-arms upon it. And the old grandfather told so many anecdotes about different men and women famed in Danish history, that at last the little boy began to imagine he must know quite as much as Holger the Dane, for he could dream of nothing but these things; and after the child had gone to bed, he still thought over what he had heard, and pressed his chin down into the pillow, fancying that he, too, had a long beard, and that it had grown into the bed. But the old grandfather still sat at his work, carving the Danish coat-of-arms, and when he had finished it, he looked at the whole image, and thought over all that he had heard and read, and told that evening to the little boy; and he nodded his head, and wiped his spectacles, and then put them on again, saying, "Ah, yes, Holger the Dane will certainly not come in my time, but the boy in the bed yonder, he, perchance, may see him and stand beside him in the hour of need." And again the old grandfather nodded his head, and the more he looked at his Holger the Dane the more he felt persuaded that this was a very good image that he had now made; he could almost fancy it had colour, and that the armour shone like real iron and steel; the hearts on the Danish arms grew redder and redder, and the lions, with their golden crowns, sprang forward fiercely-so it seemed-while he looked at them. "Surely this is the prettiest coat-of-arms in the world!" said the old man. "The lions denote strength, and the hearts symbolize mildness and love." He looked on the uppermost lion, and thought of King Canute, who subjected proud England to Denmark's throne; he looked at the second lion, and then remembered Waldemar, who gathered the Danish States into one, and vanquished the Vends; he looked at the third lion, and thought of Margaret, who united the crowns of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. He looked at the red hearts, and they seemed to shine brighter than ever; they were changed into moving flames, and his thoughts followed each flame. The first flame led him into a dark, narrow dungeon, wherein sat a captive, a beautiful woman. It was Eleanora Ulfeld, the daughter of Christian the Fourth; the flame settled upon her bosom, and bloomed like a rose above the heart of that noblest and best of all Danish women. knighthood, upon Hoitfeldt's breast, just when, to save the feet, he blew up his ship and himself with it. And the third flame led him into Greenland's wretched huts, where stood the priest, Hans Egede, with love in his words and deeds, and the flame shone like a star upon his breast, pointing to the third heart in the Danish standard. And the old grandfather's thoughts preceded the fourth flame, for he knew well whither that hovering torch-light would lead. In the peasant woman's lonely chamber stood Frederick the Sixth, writing his name with chalk on the rafters; the flame flickered about his bosom, flickered in his heart,-it was in that peasant's cot that his heart became a heart for Denmark's arms. And the old grandfather wiped his eyes, for he had known and served King Frederick of the silver-white hair and kind blue eyes, and he folded his hands and gazed before him in silence. Just then the old man's daughter-in-law came up and reminded him that it was late, and time for him to rest, and that the table was spread for supper. "But what a beautiful image you have made, grandfather," said she. "Holger the Dane, and our old coat-of-arms complete. I fancy I have seen this face before." "No, that you have not," replied the old man, "but I have seen it, and I have tried to cut it in wood, just as I remember it. It was on the 2nd of April, when the English fleet lay off the coast, when we showed ourselves to be Danes of the true old breed! I was of Steen Bille's squadron; I stood on the deck of the Denmark; there was a man by my side-it really seemed that the cannon-balls feared and shunned him! So merrily he sang the fine old battle-songs, and fired and fought as if he were more than mortal. I can recall his face even now; but whence he came or whither he went, I knew not; indeed, no one knew. I have often thought it might have been Holger the Dane himself, and that he had swam down from Kronborg to help us in the hour of danger; that was only my fancy, perhaps at any rate, here stands his likeness." And the image cast its huge shadow up the wall, even to the ceiling and the shadow seemed to move too, just as though the real living Holger the Dane were actually present in the room; but this might be because the flame of the candle flickered so unsteadily. And his son's wife kissed the old grandfather, and led him to the large armchair at the table, where she and her husband, who, of course, was son to the old grandfather, and father to the little boy in bed, sat down to eat their evening meal. And the old grandfather talked the while about the Danish lions and the Danish hearts, and about the strength and gentleness they were meant to typify. And he showed how that there was another kind of strength, quite different from that which lies in the sword-pointing, as he spoke to the shelf where a few old, well-read, well-worn books were lying, among them Holberg's comedies, those comedies which people take up and read again and again, because they are so charmingly written that all the characters described in them seem as well known to you as persons you have lived with all your life. "You see he, too, knew how to carve," remarked the old man; "he could carve out people's humours and caprices." And then the old grandfather nodded at the looking-glass, over which the almanack, with the "Round Tower," on its cover, was stuck, saying, "Tycho Brahe, he again-he was one of those who used the sword not to cut into human flesh and bone, but to make clear a plain highway among all the stars of heaven! And then he whose father was of my own craft, the old carver's son-he with the white hair and broad shoulders, whom we ourselves have seen, he whose fame is in all countries of the earth! he, to be sure, could carve in stone,-I can only carve wood. Ah, yes, Holger the Dane comes to us in many different ways, that all the world may hear of Denmark's strength! Now, shall we drink Bertel Thorwaldsen's health ?" But the little boy in bed all this while saw distinctly before him the ancient castle of Kronborg, standing alone above the sound of Elsinore, and the real Holger the Dane sitting in the caverns underground, with his beard grown fast into the marble table, and dreaming of all that happens in the world above him. And Holger the Dane, among other things, dreamt of the narrow, meanly furnished chamber wherein sat the wood-carver; he heard all that was said there and bowed his head in his dream, saying: "Yes, remember me still, good Danish people! Bear me in mind! I will not fail to come in your hour of need!" And the sun shone brightly on Kronborg's towers, and the wind wafted the notes of the hunter's horn across from the neighbouring country, the ship sailed past and saluted the castle -"BOOM, BOOM!" and Kronborg returned in "BOOM, BOOM!" But, loud as their answer cannons roared, Holger the Dane awakened not yet, for they only meant, "Good day!" and "Thank you!" The cannons must mean something very different from that before he will awake; yet awake he will, when there is need, for work and strength dwell in Holger the Daue. THE DEW-KING. A POLISH LEGEND. "BRING hither my steed! quickly bring him hither. The sun has long sunk to rest. The stars are already out; the moon shines; and the dew already glistens in the meads. The south wind no longer blows, or if it does blow, it no longer warms, but its breath is cooling. Then quickly bring me my steed, for all further delay is but time lost to me. With heaving bosom the dark-eyed maiden has long been waiting for me. On the wings of the eagle, on the wings of the wind, I will fly away on my swift-footed steed, for the night is so short, and the day is so long, and it is in the night time alone that I can live." Thus cried Trojan, the King of the brave Servians, who could not endure the rays of the sun: never had he beheld the light of the brilliant day. For, had but one sunbeam fallen upon Trojan's head, he would have resolved like a rain-cloud, and his body turned to dew. The obedient squire leads the horse from the stable. Trojan springs upon him, and bounds away. The faithful attendant follows. O, Master, dear! with carols sweet I'll call thee: O, Master, dear! forth from the window looking, The morn, the morn is near. O, Master, dear! since thou from hence wert straying, My prayers unceasing, to the Virgin praying That thou in peace thy backward way might tread. O, Master, dear! hence to the fields with me- At length Trojan came forth, mounted his steed, and away he flew with the swiftness of an arrow." Scarcely had he crossed the paved courtyard and the bridge of lime-tree wood, when the bright light spread upon him from the other side of the hill. "That is the sun!" exclaimed the affrighted squire. "Then is the moment of my death but too surely come!" replied Trojan, with repressed vexation. "I will dismount, and press my poor body close to the damp earth. But do thou cast thy cloak over me, and at sunset come with my steed to fetch me." Then trembling, he leaped from his horse, and sank fainting upon the damp earth. The faithful squire carefully spread his cloak over the poor king. "How cool and refreshing!-the very time for me!" exclaims Trojan, in joyous mood; "of a truth the stars glimmer, the moon shines, but their pale rays give no warmth. The pearly dew, white as coral, covers the verdant mead, and in every drop I perceive the image of the stars, and of the moon's bright face. How silent! how tranquil! Nothing disturbs my senses; only now and then the melancholy voice of the owl resounds from the dark forest." "O, my lord," replied the squire, "much better do I love the Away goes the squire with the steeds to the palace, knocks at the sun and the bright day, though his beams are hot, than the gloomy iron gate. "Open, porter, open quickly!" he cries, all trembling shades of night. Then I am almost blind, and the loveliest colours with fright. Down drops the drawbridge, the squire bounds in at -the violet and the rose, and the fragrant lilac-are all black alike. the gate, and calls the servants together. "Where is the king? And in the night all things sleep-birds, beasts, and men. At where is Trojan ?" they all inquire. He points in tears to the times only the wanderer from the village discerns a solitary light on horses. "The king lies upon the field; he lies upon the damp the highway; at times only the faithful guardian of the house, earth; a cloak covers his body; and I am to fetch him with his when he sniffs a wolf or something strange, wakens echo with his steed at sunset." barking. Like the billowy sea, like the corn field waving in the wind, so does echo wave and undulate from every side. And not a bird disturbs the silence of night; for the minstrel of spring, the lark roused by the dawn, flies cheerily over the verdant lea, and, with the sun, greets the fair day. At night he sleeps, like all other beings, to recruit his strength. And we, good my lord, we roam about in the thick shades of nocturnal darkness." A stately mansion glistened in the distance-in every window appeared a light. There Trojan's love awaited the coming of her lord. Trojan's stripes fall thicker and faster on the flanks of his steed, and away he flies with the swiftness of an arrow. He bounds across the bridge of lime-tree wood and over the paved courtyard. He leaps from his horse and hastens into the well-known halls. Long waited the squire, holding the horses by the bridle, till sleep closed his weary eyelids. At length, rousing up, he said to himself, "Hark! the cocks are already crowing! I must waken my king. Long is the way to his palace, and the day already begins to dawn." Approaching the door of the bedchamber, he rapped at it with vigorous hand. "O, my liege, awake! awake, my king! Day already begins to dawn. Let us quickly to horse, and ride back to the palace. "Disturb not my slumber," cried Trojan, angrily, to his attendant, "I know well when day begins to dawn, when the sun sends forth his first rays as the signal for my death. Wait outside with the horses." The obedient squire answered not a word, and waited a long time. He looked around, and perceived with alarm the first faint gleam of daybreak. And he hastened in, and with vigorous hand he rapped louder than before at the door of the dark chamber. "Awake, O, my liege!" cried he, filled with despair. "If thou tarriest but another moment, the sun's rays will kill thee." "Wait but a moment, and then I will hasten away. If I but mount my horse before the rosy dawn awakes, before the bright sun begins to shine, I shall be in my palace in a trice." Long did the obedient attendant wait, beguiling the time with the following song :— Q, Master, dear! or sleeping or awaking, It was a sultry day, not a breath of wind stirred, and the sun scorched like fire. Trojan trembled beneath his cloak for fear, and heat; and he vowed in his mind, if he should get out of this peril, never to wait again for the dawn of morning. Herdsmen passing that way to tend their cattle come to the spot where Trojan lay. "Behold! there lies a cloak." They lift it up, and perceive a man; and they quickly drew off the cloak entirely from him. Trojan shrieked, and besought them by all they held dear, crying, "Cover une again with the cloak! let me not be scorched by the fire!" But in vain he beseeches or entreats them-the sun shines bright and darts his beams directly upon Trojan's face. All at once he is silent, for his eyes are turned into two drops; head, neck, and bosom dissolve, and presently his whole body is transformed, as it were, into tears. And the corpse of Trojan glistens for a moment longer like dew; but these drops, too, are soon dried up by the heat of the day. About sunset the faithful squire hastens to the spot with the servants of the palace. Trojan is not there. He finds nought but the cloak upon the ground; he wrings his hands, and weeps bitterly. Vain are thy tears and thy sorrow, 'faithful squire, they will not restore thy king to life again. THE GENEROUS LION. ir full assurance of seeing him immediately devoured: contrary, however, A CERTAIN person inhumanly cast a poor little dog into the den of a lion, to his expectation, the noble animal not only spared the victim, but soon honoured him with particular affection. He regarded the dog as an unfortunate fellow-prisoner, who, on his part, from motives of gratitude, was constantly fawning about his generous lord They long lived together in uninterrupted peace and friendship: one watched while the other slept: first the lion fed, and then his humble companion. In a word, the magnanimity of the one and the gratitude of the other had united them in the closest manner. But a careless servant, forgetting that other creatures required foot as well as himself, left the two friends twenty-four hours without victuals. At last, recollecting his charge, he brought them their usual provisions, when the dog eagerly caught at the first morsel, at the expense of his life: for the hungry lion instantly seized his companion, and killed him. The perpetration of this horrid deed was followed by a severe and painful repentance. The lion's dejection daily increased. He refused his food with heroic obstinacy, and voluntarily starved himself to death, THE SEASONS. WHO is this beautiful virgin that approaches, clothed in a robe of light green? She has a garland of flowers on her head, and flowers spring up wherever she sets her foot. The snow which . covered the fields, and the ice which was on the rivers, melt away when she breathes upon them. The young lambs frisk about her, and the birds warble to welcome her coming; when they see her they begin to choose their mates and to build their nests. Youths and maidens, have you seen this beautiful virgin? If ye have, tell me who she is, and what is her name? Who is this that cometh from the South, thinly clad in a light transparent garment? Her breath is hot and sultry; she seeks the refreshment of the cool shade; she seeks the clear streams, the crystal brooks, to bathe her languid limbs. The brooks and rivulets fly from her, and are dried up at her approach. She cools her parched lips with berries and the grateful acids of fruits. The tanned haymakers welcome her coming, and the sheep-shearer, who clips the fleeces off his flock with his sounding shears. When she cometh let me lie under the thick shade of a spreading beech tree. Let me walk with her in the early morning, when the dew is yet upon the grass. Let me wander with her in the soft twilight, when the shepherd shuts his fold, and the star of the evening appears. Who is she that cometh from the South? Youths and maidens tell me, if you know, who is she and what is her name? Who is he that cometh with sober pace, stealing upon us unawares? His garments are red with the blood of the grape, and his temples are bound with a sheaf of ripe wheat. His hair is thin, and begins to fall, and the auburn is mixed with mournful gray. He shakes the brown nuts from the tree. He winds the horn and calls the hunters to their sport. The gun sounds; the trembling partridge and the beautiful pheasant flutter, bleeding, in the air, and fall dead at the sportsman's feet. Youths and maidens tell me, if you know, who is he, and what is his name? Who is he that cometh from the North in furs and warm wool ? He wraps his cloak close about him. His head is bald; his beard is made of sharp icicles. He loves the blazing fire high piled upon the hearth, and the wine sparkling in the glass. He binds skates to his feet, and skims over frozen lakes. His breath is piercing and cold, and no little flower dares to peep above the surface of the ground when he is by. Whatever he touches turns to ice. Youths and maidens do you see him? He is coming upon us, and will soon be here. Tell me, if you know, who is he, and what is his name? ONE AGAINST FOUR. A MERCHANT, a soldier, a priest, and a philosopher walked one day into a poor man's orchard, and, plucking some of the ripest fruit, ate it. They also gathered a good deal that was not ripe, which, after tasting, they threw away. The gardener perceived the waste and injury they committed, but thought that, as he was alone, it would not be prudent to enter into a dispute with four persons. So he went up to the philosopher and said to him, "Good day, sir. In your capacity of philosopher, you are the sustainer of our religion, and direct weak and erring men to follow the right path that leads to happiness. As to this holy priest, I am his humble but unworthy servant. I have much respect for soldiers, because they defend our homes and country from enemies who would rob and enslave us. When men like you, sir, and them, come into my garden, and help themselves to my fruit, it gives me much pleasure; and I feel honoured by your condescension. But who is this merchant? What is he? By what right does he come into my garden, without so much as saying, 'by your leave,' and destroy my father's property? He can make no excuse." Saying these words, he laid hold of the merchant, bound him hand and foot, and thrust him into a corner. Then he said to the soldier, who was tipsy, "Thy two companions are respectable and well behaved: they are at liberty to consider this garden as their own, although I pay rent and taxes for it; but as for you, you come here only to pollute it and destroy it." With these words he seized him by the collar, bound him, and put him aside. Next he addressed the philosopher, saying: "Everybody respects the ministers of our holy religion, when they show themselves worthy disciples of our Master, and I have myself the greatest respect for them; but thou, who hast pretensions to superior knowledge, do you not know that it is a crime to devastate a garden that does not belong to you? What use is your knowledge to you, if it does not make you wiser and better. You are no better than an ass carrying a load of books on his back." With these words he seized the philosopher, and tied him to a tree. When the priest was thus left by himself the gardener said to him, "Hark ye; you pretend to be a priest, but you are only an imposter, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Do not the commandments teach-thou shalt not steal-and yet you have stolen my father's fruit: does not the religion you profess say 'do unto others as you would be done unto.' Why, then, have you come here to rob me?" Upon this the gardener seized the pretended priest and tied his hands behind his back, and led him to his companions, nor would he release them until they had each paid for the ruit they had eaten and wasted, Who ran to help me when I fell, My Mother. And can I ever cease to be My Mother? My Mother. When thou art feeble, old, and gray, My healthy arm shall be thy stay, And I will soothe thy pains away, My Mother. THE STORY OF MR. VINEGAR. MR. AND MRS. VINEGAR lived in a vinegar bottle. Now, one day, when Mr. Vinegar was from home, Mrs. Vinegar, who was a very good housewife, was busily sweeping her house, when an unlucky thump of the broom brought the whole house, clitter-clatter, clitterclatter, about her ears. In an agony of grief she rushed forth to meet her husband. On seeing him, she exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Vinegar, Mr. Vinegar, we are ruined, we are ruined! I have knocked the house down, and it is all to pieces!" Mr. Vinegar then said, "My dear, let us see what can be done. Here is the door, I will take it on my back, and we will go forth to seek our fortune." They walked all that day and, at night, entered a thick forest. They were both exceedingly tired, and Mr. Vinegar said, "My love, I will climb up into a tree, drag up the door, and you shall follow." He accordingly did so, and they both stretched their weary limbs on the door, and fell fast asleep. In the middle of the night Mr. Vinegar was disturbed by the sound of voices beneath the tree, and, to his great dismay, he perceived that a party of thieves were met to divide their booty. "Here, Jack," said one, "here's £5 for you. Here, Bill, here's listen no longer, his terror was so great that he trembled most vio£10 for you. Here, Bob, here's £3 for you." Mr. Vinegar could lently, and shook down the door on the heads of the thieves. Away scampered the thieves; but Mr. Vinegar dared not quit his retreat till broad daylight. He then scrambled out of the tree, and went to lift up the door. What should he behold but a lot of golden_guineas! "Come down, Mrs. Vinegar," he cried, "come down, I say! Our fortune's made, our fortune's made-come down, I say!" Mrs. Vinegar got with equal delight. what you shall do. 66 down as fast as she could, and saw the money "Now, my dear," said she, "I'll tell you There is a fair at the neighbouring town, you shall take these forty guineas and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese, which you shall sell at market, and we shall then be able to live very comfortably." Mr. Vinegar joyfully assents, takes the money, and goes off to the fair. When he arrived he walked up and down, and at length saw a beautiful red cow. It was an excellent milker, and perfect in every respect. "Oh," thought Mr. Vinegar, "if I had but that cow I should be the happiest man alive." So he offers the forty guineas for the cow, and the owner declared that, as he was a friend, he'd oblige him, and the bargain was made. Proud of his purchase, he drove the cow backwards and forwards to show it. 66 The sage Phrygian listened to their replies with a smile, but without raising any objections, when presently they arrived at a cross road, where they perceived two dogs sitting under a tree. One of them had on a brass collar, and was crouching, with his fore feet crossed upon each other, quite at his ease, while the other sat half erect in a sort of defiant attitude. "Look, look," said the foremost boy to sop, "don't those dogs look as if they were talking together like friends and neighbours. You, Esop, who understand the language of animals so well, translate for us what they are saying " Willingly," said the hunchback, approaching the dogs, and bending his head as if listening. 66 "The spaniel asked the other dog to whom he belongs; he answered proudly that he has no master." "Are you quite sure of that?" asked the spaniel. By and by he saw a man playing the bagpipes. "Tweedle-dum, collar there no chain-I am my own master. I belong to nobody but "Look at my neck,” replied the independent dog, "you will find no tweedle-dee;" the children followed him about, and he appeared to myself. He whose name is graven on your collar decides when you shall be pocketing money on all sides. " Well," thought Mr. Vinegar, "if wake and when you shall sleep, and when you are asleep he wakes you I had but that beautiful instrument, I should be the happiest man with his whistle, whether you like it or not. You must follow him wherealive. My fortune would be made." So he went up to the man. ever he goes, hunting or travelling. If you wish to run, and he wishes you "Friend," says he, "what a beautiful instrument that is, and what to lie down, you must do as he bids you or get a beating. I can go where a deal of money you must make." Why, yes," said the man, "II please, and rest when I like. I have no master but my own fancy-my make a great deal of money, to be sure, and it is a wonderful instru- time is all my own." ment." "Oh," cried Mr. Vinegar, "how I should like to possess it!" "Well," said the man, "as you are a friend, I don't much mind parting with it. You shall have it for that red cow." "Done," said the delighted Mr. Vinegar; so the beautiful red cow was given for the bagpipes. He walked up and down with his purchase; but in vain he attempted to play a tune, and, instead of pocketing pence, the boys followed him hooting, laughing, and pelting. Poor Mr. Vinegar, his fingers grew very cold, and, heartily ashamed and mortified, he was leaving the town, when he met a man with a fine thick pair of gloves. "Oh, my fingers are so very cold," said Mr. Vinegar to himself; "if I had but those beautiful gloves, I should be the happiest man alive." He went up to the man, and said to him, "Friend, you seem to have a capital pair of gloves there." "Yes, truly," cried the man, 66 and my hands are as warm as possible this cold November day." "Well," said Mr. Vinegar, "I should like to have them." "What will you give ?" said the man; "as you are a friend, I don't much mind letting you have them for those bagpipes." "Done," cried Mr. Vinegar. He put on the gloves and felt perfectly happy as he trudged homewards. At last he grew very tired, when he saw a man coming towards him with a good stout stick in his hand. "Oh," said Mr. Vinegar, "if I had but that stick! I should then be the happiest man alive." He accosted the man. "Friend, what a rare good stick you have got." "Yes," said the man, "I have used it for many a long mile, and a good friend it has been. But, if you have a fancy for it, as you are a friend, I don't mind giving it to you for that pair of gloves." Mr. Vinegar's hands were so warm, and his legs so tired, that he gladly exchanged. As he drew near to the wood where he had left his wife, he heard a parrot on a tree calling out his name, "Mr. Vinegar, you foolish man, you blockhead, you simpleton; you went to the fair and laid out all your money in buying a cow; not content with that, you changed it for bagpipes, on which you could not play, and which were not worth one-tenth of the money. You fool, you-you had no sooner got the bagpipes than you changed them for the gloves, which were not worth one quarter of the money; and, when you had got the gloves, you changed them for a poor miserable stick. And now, for your forty guineas, cow, bagpipes, and gloves, you have nothing to show but that poor miserable stick, which you might bave cut in any hedge." On this the bird laughed immoderately, and Mr. Vinegar, falling into a violent rage, threw the stick at its head. The stick lodged in the tree, and he returned to his wife without money, cow, bagpipes, gloves, or stick, and she instantly gave him such a sound cudgelling that she almost broke every bone in his skin. THE TWO DOGS. A FABLE. ESOP, passing one day through the suburbs of Athens, saw two schoolboys, with their satchels at their backs, going to school in the fields, or, rather, playing truant. At the sight of the hunchbacked philosopher, whose stories had so often amused their leisure hours, the boys ran to him, and begged him to tell them a fable; but op, who was a slave, replied that, as he was going on an errand for his master, he could not stop. The boys then joined Esop on his way, for the pleasure of hearing him talk. He inquired of one of the boys what prevented him going to school. The boy replied that it was such a beautiful day he thought he would rather spend it in the fields. Asking the other boy his reason, he replied that he was tired of learning lessons, and both agreed that they were tired of obeying a master. "Very good," replied the spaniel, "tell me, then, how it happened that you were so late in keeping your appointment with me at this place?" "I met some naughty boys on the road who would not let me pass them and they pelted me with stones, so that I was obliged to go a long way "That is the first obstacle to your liberty," said the spaniel. "Oh, that's nothing," replied the other, "I cut across the fields, and went through the sheep-fold, in spite of the dogs who wanted to fight with round to find another road." me. "And, if I am not deceived, you left a bit of your ear behind you," said the spaniel. "Oh, that's not worth speaking about," interrupted the other; "liberty is of much more consequence than the tip of one's ear. But, excuse me, I must go now, for I have not a moment to lose if I wish for my dinner." "How is that?" asked the spaniel. "Because I must be at the farm before dinner is over. The children there are very fond of me. I let them ride on my back, and in return for "That is all very fine," said he; "you have been driven out of the high road by some bad boys, you have had to fight with the shepherd's dogs before you could get here to meet me, and you have to depend for your dinner on the whims of the farmer's children. Is that what you call 'doing as you like?' If I am not mistaken you are the slave of an encounter, of violence, and of hunger, to which you must every moment submit or fight; while I-I have to depend only upon one master, and when I have done my duty I have nothing to trouble myself about." At first the schoolboys listened to Esop's discourse with a smile on their faces, but they soon became serious. hunchback in silence; at last, the boldest, addressing him, said- "The conclusion," replied Esop, "is, that man, if wise, imitates the spaniel, and takes DUTY for his master, so as not to be the slave of accident and temptation." THE CORN EAR AND THE THISTLE. A COUNTRYMAN with silver white hair walked with his youthful grandson in the corn field at the time of harvest. The old man jested with the reapers, that they were but children when compared to him, who had laboured in more than sixty harvests. Now one of the reapers offered him a scythe; the old man took it, and, like a vigorous youth, cut down a swathe. And the reapers shouted and flourished their scythes in honour of him. The youth, his grandson, said to him, "Grandfather, how is it that you have such a happy old age?" : The old man answered, "Look you, my son, throughout my life I have confided in God, alike in evil as in pleasant days: thus I have always been of good courage. I have been diligent in my calling, and laboured faithfully thus I have gained bodily strength and the blessing of God. I have walked uprightly before God, and peaceably with all men: and thus have I prepared for myself gladness and peace. And with advancing years all this has been strengthened and established in me by the grace of God. Do likewise, my son. Then thy old age will be like a rich sheaf, which the Lord of the harvest gathers joyfully into his granary." "To what dost thou compare an evil old age?" asked the youth. He walked in silence by the side of the old man. Then the latter, pointing with his staff to a thistle by the way-side, said, "Behold here the image of a barren disconsolate old age It is lonely and unnoticed; its gray head is the sport of the wind, and its seeds are scattered abroad." THE ARCH BOY-A gentleman being at table, forgot to help his little boy; upon which the child said to him, "Sir, will you please to give me some salt ?" "For what?" said the father. "For the meat you are going to give me," replied the boy |
