THE YUUTHS CABINET.

en

bon’s Birds, and I thought I would gratify
my scholars with a sight of them.” _

“Live birds? Perhaps they were
stuffed, though.”

“No, better than that; large pictures,
not only of the birds themselves, but of
their haunts, and their way of life.”

66 Oh 1"?

“The heron wading, the ‘kingfisher
fishing, you know.

“Oh !”

“One wild scene had a fog over it,
looking so natural that one of the girls

started when I spoke, and said she thought
for a moment she was there all alone,
among the reeds and bushes, watching
the birds who were flying and hopping
about there.”

“Oh!” groaned Amy, again.

“T was sorry you were mot with us,” -
said the teacher, “and I knew you would |

be very sorry to-day, and stand in need

of consolation. So come and give me a

kiss, Let me see what an interest you

will take in your lessons, to-day, Try to»
love school, and you will love it. I love |

it, myself, though I get very tired, espe-
cially when Amy is restless and needs
watching.”

“O, I will not need watching any
more, dear Miss Eliza. I will be just as
busy when you are pot looking, and get
all my lessons very perfectly. I shall he
happier, | know, if I am good.”

“Yes, indeed; then you will not think
of the school-room as a place to be re
buked and punished in, And if you are
not idle, you will not be watching the
clock, and thinking how long the forenoon
iss We busy folks are often taken by
surprise, when the bell rings for twelve.”

Amy tried being a good girl one week,
and found it a very agreeable experiment,

 

She loved Miss Eliza with her whole
heart, and now no longer cried herself to
sleep at night with self-upbraiding for
having tired and troubled her. She be-
came ambitious of praise, and won it
pretty often.

Luce’s mother was carried to the work-

} house for intemperance and bad conduct.

Luee was taken into a farmer’s family,

| where plenty of hard work and good

advice made a tolerably good girl of her,

though old habits were hard to break up,

and now and then brought her into dis-
grace and trouble, till she was a woman
grown.—Child’s Friend.

Song of the Grasshopper.

Hays you not heard in the sweet summer time,
A sound as of young birds singing,

When the beautiful earth is drest in her prime,
And the woods with soft echoes are ringing ?

It is I, it is I, in my gay summer mirth,

Brightening the joy of the beautiful earth |

Seek my green coat in the long verdant grass,
T am there with my frolicsome bound;
But tread like a fairy—for, if, as you pass,
I should hear your light foot on the ground,
I cease my gay song, and you seek me in vain,
Or think me a leaf on the emerald plain.

And oh, such a leaf! no soft summer wind

F’er toss’d leaflet so wide or so high
As the long double legs which I carry behind
Bear me over the ground as I fly.

I beat my shrill drum; my light music you hear,
Softly chirping to summer its bright notes of

cheer.
Stray Leaves from Fairy Lend.