THE PREMIUM. 169

“You told us of things that had been pleasant
to you, did you not, Mary?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then these were your pleasures at home.”

“But how can I write about them?” asked
Mary, with reviving spirits.

“Just as you talked about them ; tell what your
pleasures were, and how much you enjoyed them:
can you not do this?”

“Oh, yes, but then, Uncle Lovett, if that is
what we are to do, everybody’s pleasures of home
will be a different thing. I thought we were all
to write about the same thing.”

“There is something alike in the pleasures
of every home—something without which no
home could be pleasant: can you tell what that
ig?”

Mary thought for a long time, but she puzzled
herself in vain; she could not think of any one
thing that was to be found in the pleasures of
evcry home. Mr. Lovett looked on with a smiling
face, shaking his head at her guesses, and when
at last she exclaimed, “I give it up, Uncle Lovett
—I can’t guess,” he bade her write her composi-