THE YOUTH’S CABINET.

 

Amy’s Holiday.

wE Saturday noon, a room full of

‘ school-girls had put away their

books, and sat waiting to be dis-

missed. One little tanned thing,

named Amy, was in a great hurry to be

free. One foot was advanced, all ready

for a start; and her hand was on her

desk, to help her to spring from her seat
as soon as the signal was given.

“ Children, I invite you all to come to
school this afternoon,” said the teacher.
“T do not wish to compel any one. But
I shall be here at two, and hope to find a
few of my scholars, at least; those who
love me, and love school.”

There were many blank faces at this.
All wanted the holiday. The industrious
scholars were tired, and needed the usual
rest. Those who found it tiresome to
labor, and loved to be in the open air,
like Amy, were eager to be set free for a
long half day. Some of the older girls
smiled, and nodded to each other. The
teacher almost laughed out at the vexa-
tion of Amy, who pouted, and looked
eross. When any face with a questioning
look turned toward’s her, as if to say,
“You, Amy; are you coming ?” she shook
her head, pettishly, as if to say, “ Indeed,
I shall not. ’

“You are dismissed,” said the teacher.
Amy scampered off in such haste, that
she left her bag. Some of the girls
begged to know why there was to be a
school.

“That is my secret,” said the teacher,
smiling. |

“Ts it your request that we should
come? Would it oblige you %” said they.

“No, it would not oblige me. It would
please me, I confess. But I do not ask it,

on my own account; I invite you, for
your own benefit, not mine.”

Every scholar came, but Amy. About
the middle of the afternoon there was a
knock at the school-room door. It was
not opened; the teacher’s voice called
out, “ Who is there? Is it Amy ?”

“Yes, it is, I,ma’am. I want my bag.”

“Oho! Then you have not come to
school ?”

“No ma'am. Why, it is three o’clock
and after !” |

“Well, if you will change your mind,
you may come in, now! I will not note
you as tardy.”

The door was opened a little and a
roguish black eye peeped out at Amy.”

“T have company waiting for me,” said
Amy. “I cannot change my mind.
Besides it is pleasanter out of doors, this
warm afternoon. So do get my bag,
Anna, and let me go.”

“Very well,” said Anna, “go back
farther from the door, so that you cannot
look in, and you shall have your bag;
little goose as you are !”

Amy wanted to know what was going
on that she must not have a peep at, and
had half a mind to goin. But the idea
of being prisoner for the rest of the after-
noon, and the jingling of some cents in
the bag, turned her feet from the door.
As she went away, she heard a loud
laugh, and a murmur of merry voices.
She stopped, and half turned round. “I
wish I had gone in,” she thought, “ but I
am ashamed to do it now. They would
all have such a laugh, to see me, after all.
No, Pll go—buy some nuts.”

A ragged, impudent looking girl, a
head taller than Amy, was waiting for
her in the street. Her name was Luce

Wayland. She had been employed by