Foachim the Mimic. 75

No anfwer fell from the abafhed boy, till a fud-
den thought revived him.

“But I can imitate the finging-mafter, Mother.”

‘“¢ Let me hear you, my dear child.”

‘© Why it ifn’t exa&tly what you can hear,” ob-
ferved Joachim murmuringly ; “‘but when he fings,
you have no idea what horrible faces he makes.
Nay, it’s true, indeed, he turns up his eyes, fhuts
them, diftorts his mouth, and fwings about on the
{tool like the pendulum of a clock !”

And Joachim performed all the grimaces and
contortions to perfection, till his Aunt and Coufins
were convulfed with laughter.

“© Well done,” cried his Mother. ‘ Now you
are indeed like the cat in the German fable, Joa-
chim ! who voted himfelf like the bear, becaufe he
could lick his paws after the fame fafhion, though
he could not imitate either his courage or his
ftrength. Now let me look a little further into
your education. Bring me your drawing-book.”
It came, and there was page after page of odd and
ugly faces, ftrange nofes, ftranger eyes, _—
out of the book in hideous array.

“ I fuppofe you will laugh again if I afk you if
thefe are the beauties of your fchool, Joachim ;—
but tell me ferioufly, are there no good, pleafant,
or handfome faces among your fchoolfellows ?”

‘Plenty, Mother ; one or two the Matter calls
models, and who often fit to him to be drawn
from.”

“¢ Draw one of thofe faces for me, my dear; I