Chapter II: Part 2

Upon asking her destination, she said she had just arrived from Ireland in search of her sister, who was the mother of the little children. The letter containing the directions had been lost, so there was no clue to the parents, and she was left sad and lonely.

The little baby grew worse during the night, and in the morning, before any physician could arrive, breathed its last in the arms of its nurse. The poor woman seemed distracted with her grief, and constantly mourned, "Oh! would that its mother could see her own handsome boy!" The little girl watched everything that was going on with a quiet smile, and thinking her little brother was asleep, kept saying, "Why don't he wake? Poor brother, he is very sick."

Seeing her aunt weep as the beautiful child was about to be laid in its last resting-place, she said, "Don't cry, he'll soon be well again; I'll give him some of my cake, and then I know he'll be better."

'Twas a touching scene to see such heart-rending grief in the woman, and the happy unconsciousness of the little girl. The poor creature could not be comforted, as she thought of her sister's loss and her own responsibility; but in her moments of calmness she was engaged in earnest prayer.

As a last act of devotion, she placed a little cross, made of two pine sticks, upon the breast of the infant, and then, as if feeling some consolation from this act of her faith, she quietly resigned the body for burial.

EMMA AND LINA.

SCRAPS FROM A JOURNAL PICKED UP IN A GALE OF WIND.

Monday. Began the duties of the day by reciting the texts of the day before, the commandments, and then reading in the Testament. We were all very busy, and tried to have a good beginning for the week, so our lessons were well said, and no one was kept in. We sewed all the afternoon, and listened to the reading of "Kings and Queens," by Abbot, and we like it very much.

Tuesday. The day was bright and beautiful, and after our lessons were over, we all went to a printing office to see the process of setting types, and printing newspapers, and we had a present of some types for ourselves. In the afternoon, we had a drawing lesson, and some of us have begun landscapes.

After school we all visited the jail, to see some little children there, and we wondered what they had done to be put in such a place. We did not want to see the convicts, but we took a peep into the little stone cells, and heard some one singing.

Wednesday. We sang a whole hour, as some visitors come into the school, and then recited our lessons as usual. In the afternoon, several old scholars and the Sunday School class, were invited to hear a new story, called "A Trap to catch a Sunbeam," and we enjoyed it very much. Before they left we played games on the green, and then sat down to crack nuts and talk. In the evening all the family went to a lecture, but I staid at home to study.

Thursday. It stormed hard, so we said all our lessons early to have a little longer recess. We danced cotillons and learned how to waltz, as one of the girls was so kind as to show us, and we think she is a grand teacher. We brought our dinners and all staid at noon, when we had a fine time playing "Still Palm," "Keeping House," and acting Charades.

Friday. We were all as busy as bees, and the teacher was very happy because we were good. At recess we all picked up the yellow leaves, and pinned them on our shoulders, as a badge of our belonging to the "Sunbeam Society;" and the first one who was not good natured, was to forfeit membership.

In the afternoon we read as usual, and then counted up the pieces of work finished off during the week, and there was quite a variety of useful and tasteful articles. Susy had a pair of Polish boots; Jenny several yards of edging; Lizzy a tidy; Sarah a bead purse; Julia a sack; Lily a bag; Annie a pair of slippers and scarf; Angelina a quilt; Abby a book mark; Mary a sampler; Emeline a pair of pantalets; Isabella a dress; besides handkerchiefs, towels, and knit dishcloths, from the little ones.

After school we visited the paper factory, and saw a great many curious operations; cutting pasteboard, coloring and polishing paper, enamelling cards, and then most wonderful of all, the making of marbled paper.

Saturday. We all said poetry, and made preparations for the coming Examination; then, after the marks were counted, we changed our desks for the next fortnight, and the _gold cross_ was given to the best scholar.

In the afternoon we went to see some Indians make baskets in their tent, and came away each with a specimen of their work. We then went to the church steps, heard an address on the subject, and were requested to read all we could find about the Indians, and at some future day to make them a subject for composition.

Sunday. I attended Sunday School, and heard a very interesting address from the Superintendent on the duty of being good, and several pretty anecdotes were told to illustrate the subject. The minister joined in the exercises, and some hymns were sung preparatory to an approaching Sunday School celebration on Fast-day. We are all very much pleased at the prospect, for we anticipated hearing some excellent speakers.

Our lesson was as usual from "the Parables," and the scholars wrote an abstract from the "Pearl of great price." I went to church in the morning, and heard a very fine sermon on the duty of a contented and grateful disposition.

SUSY A.

AN INCIDENT

_RECORDED FOR THE SAKE OF LITTLE ANNIE'S BENEFIT AND PLEASURE._

On a warm summer's day, as a class of little folks were reading from their Natural History, in flew a lovely "bluebird," of which they were at that moment reading a description.

Struck by the coincidence, they were allowed to examine his brilliant plumage, his bright eyes and little beak, all of which he bore very quietly, and then was set at liberty.

His flight was watched, and soon after he was seen to visit a grape-jar placed in a neighbouring garden, and they recognized him as one of the pets of a good lady who had often watched them from her window, whilst patiently lingering in her last sickness. All her kindness came back to their minds, and many were the pleasant things said about her goodness, and their sorrow for her loss. They remembered her care of the two blue birds, and of all the dumb creatures under her ever watchful eye; her interest for the lone and friendless, and her unwearied attendance at the sick and dying bed.

More than all they thought of the pleasant hours they had passed under her roof, and of her gentleness and affectionate manner towards them. For her sake they resolved to be good children; and all that knew her must try to grow up as kind and benevolent to all around them, as was this excellent and most disinterested woman.

A STORY FOR WILLIE.

Once upon a time, when leaves were falling and cold winds began to blow, a birthday was to be celebrated. It was too late for pleasant summer walks, and too early for winter sports, so what could be devised for this important occasion. At last it came into the head of somebody, to have a tea-party, and the idea was so acceptable, that it was declared a unanimous vote.

The one useful boy offered to do errands, and bring all the necessary articles; while the girls were to provide the feast and to array all tastefully within the school-room. Many were the expedients, strange the metamorphoses occasioned by the fete, and great was the fun thereof to all concerned.

An ironing board placed upon two barrels, was converted into a beautiful extension table, and was gracefully draped with a large white cloth. The well-worn black-board became an elegant buffet, and instead of long rows of figures, held pails of crystal water and jugs of sweet, fresh milk. A solar lamp of diminutive size graced the centre of the table, which groaned under the weight of cake, dough-nuts, bread and butter, and a variety of other articles too numerous to mention.

One of the youngest was lady hostess, and presided at the head of the table, aided in her duties by several nimble waiting maids. Distinguished guests were invited, and partook of the ample refreshments.

After a proper attention to the feast, the table was nicely cleared, the dishes washed and wiped, and every thing put into the neatest order by the young house-keepers. Then a merry set of dances followed to the pleasant music of the piano, and after those, songs and choruses pealed forth from the harmonious throng.

Last of all, Charades and Tableaux added brilliancy to the festival. Among the words chosen for representation, were "Capital," "Caprice," "Childhood," and "Washington," and the actors excelled themselves.

All had a delightful time, and after one last song, sung with warmly grasped hands, and hearts full of affection, they departed to their various homes. Who will forget that birthday tea-party, on Thanksgiving Eve?

A LETTER.

"THE VILLAGE OF TREES."

MY DEAR MOTHER:

I was very glad indeed to get your letter last week. I will try to do all you wish, though I have already been silly enough to have one or two crying spells. But I think I shall soon cure myself, for I have such pleasant times, I have more cause for laughing than tears, and I mean to keep up the good habit.

I have to study very hard, for the teacher is very particular; and the scholars are so bright, that I must work to keep up with them. Out of school we have grand times together, and this Spring we have formed a Club, which we call the "Sunrise Society;" and we get up very early and all go off to walk by six o'clock.

We have been in every direction, and I only wish you knew the delightful walks there are here. One of the pleasantest is to the "Falls," near the factories, through a narrow winding path, by the side of a beautiful pond, the waters of which flow over a dam. As we look underneath the bridge, the water rushes down with great rapidity and force, and the noise is very loud. There is a beautiful grove close by, with rocks scattered along the side of the stream, which runs quietly on after its foaming, whirling jump over the dam, and it is a very romantic spot. There are many other pleasant places, called "Rose Cottage;" "Lover's Lane;" "Sandy Valley;" "Powder House Rock;" "Spider's Village;" "Tyot Woods;" "Harrison Grove;" "West Retreat;" and "Purgatory;" and when you come, I will show them all to you.

After school for the day is over, we often walk again; so you see I shall have plenty of exercise. Yesterday, as there was no school, we all went to the Court-House, to hear some speeches by two distinguished lawyers, in a very interesting case, and the room was crowded. We went early and carried our work, but we soon had to put it away for want of elbow room. We learned something about the manner of trying a case before a jury. There was one speaker who was very much interested in what he was saying, and the ladies all seemed to like him the best; so I hoped he would gain the case, and I believe he did.

Last week the weather was very warm and pleasant, so we rolled hoop at recess and had fine fun. In the afternoon we sew and draw; and lately we have been making garments for a poor woman and her family in another part of the town.

After making up a large bundle, we all went to see her. She seemed very much obliged to us, and dressed up her children to show us how nicely the clothes fitted. We have very interesting lessons in History about the Queens of England; and besides that we have been reading about Marie Antoinette, who suffered so dreadfully in the French Revolution.

The little scholars have been reading some of "Mary Howitt's tales;" "The Cousins in Ohio;" and the "Life of Robert Swain," which is very interesting. We are all very busy with Arithmetic, and as each one gets through any difficult section, we receive a _pictured card_ as a sort of certificate. The little ones have been learning the Multiplication Table, and one of them had a cunning little slate given to her, for reciting perfectly at the fortnight's review.

Last Saturday we all went into town with our teacher, to see "Bayne's Panorama of a Voyage to Europe," and we had to write a description of it for our composition. We had a very pleasant time and it was very beautiful; though I can remember but little about the scenes, they came so fast one after another. We all liked the storm at sea, the icebergs, and the views on the river Rhine very much; but we think Banvard's Panorama of the Mississippi was the best. As we had been writing a description of the Telegraph, we stopped at a place where it was made, examined all the different parts, and had them explained to us; and some of these days we are to see a message sent to New York.

You ask me to tell you everything, so I will end my letter, by relating an event which took place in our school-room. As we were all sitting round the fire, studying our lessons, down tumbled the stove-pipe with a tremendous noise, scattering soot in every direction. Fortunately no one was hurt; but we were all very much frightened. We had a longer play time than usual, while a man was repairing the damage.

P.S. I forgot to tell you that I went to see a little play performed, called "Old Poz." We had a fine time, for all the characters were well dressed and the parts were well acted. We did not have much scenery, but that was no matter, we had such a grand curtain. After the play we had a young "Indian Girl," in complete costume, and "The three Sisters of Scio," which puzzled the audience very much indeed. I went to bed later than usual, but I had all my lessons perfect the next day; so I do not think it did me any harm. But if you do not like such things, I will not go again.

With a kiss, I remain
Your Affectionate Daughter,
"POLLY PRIPPETS."

PARODY ON THE MOWER'S SONG.

When early morning's ruddy light
Bids man to labor go,
We haste, with faces fresh and bright,
Our early walk to go.

Chorus.

And then at school we next appear,
To pass the hours away,
And all is lively, sprightly here,
Like merry, merry May.

Chorus.

The scholars come in gladsome train,
And skip along the way,
Rejoiced to con their books again,
As flies the happy day.

Chorus.

With jokes, and jests, and lively din,
We eat our recess cheer;
While in the healthful game we join,
With nought to make us fear.

Chorus.

When evening's shades begin to fall,
In study's busy hum,
We willing list to learning's call,
And think of days to come.

Chorus.

We'll fill our heads with ample store,
Our hearts with love are stirred;
And thus, before youth's days are o'er,
For age our armor gird.

Chorus.

And when life's harvest all is done,
We'll give our souls the wing,
And happy spirits all as one,
Make Heaven with music ring.

Chorus.

CHORUS.

We scholars--dal de ral dey,
We'll study and then we will play;
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, play!
Hey-day! yes play--hey-day;
We'll study and then we will play.

A FEW RHYMES FOR "CHARLIE BOY."

There was a brown squirrel on a tree,
Hopping about so merrily;
And spying below some children near,
Said, "I wonder what they're doing here?"

Busy they brought both stones and sticks,
And ovens and fires they tried to fix,
Grand parlors too, sprang up beside,
Their greatest work, their greatest pride!

And there were Emma, and Willy, and Molly,
All so bright, and merry, and jolly;
With Charley too, and roguish Dan,
Named for the great New Hampshire man.

Says Bunny, "I'll try if I can see
Anything there, will do for me;"
So slyly he peeped from his high seat,
As they were munching their luncheon treat.

Says Molly to Willy and rosy Ju,
"Here's a piece of cake for both of you;"
And in the sunshine they cosily sat,
Eating and talking childish chat.

But pretty soon their play was o'er,
And each went in at the school-room door;
Then down came Bunny and ate their crumbs,
And then sat coolly wiping his thumbs.

A STORY FOR LIZZIE.

A little sparrow who had been very carefully, reared by her mother, was one day permitted to go off by herself to see a little of the great world. Delighted with her freedom, she hopped from bough to bough, and finally alighted near a school-house.

Kindly voices met her ears, and friendly faces soon came out to watch her motions. Without fear of molestation, she picked up the bread and cake scattered round, and eyed the children with her bright black eyes.

Soon after she came again, bringing a little mate; and together they chirped their thanks, and for a long time were regular and welcome visitors.

One morning, feeling less timid than usual, one of them hopped into the school-room, watching everything with a keen interest; but thinking he might intrude, he flew away, very much pleased with the song the children sung to him. It is so pretty, we will sing it now for those who did not hear it on that occasion.

[From the School Singer.]

"With your singing,
Pleasure bringing,
Come sweet lovely bird again;
Winter sighing
Off is hieing,
Joy again with you shall reign.

Fruits and berries,
Plums and cherries,
Now shall be your welcome meat;
Come to cheer us,
Do not fear us,
Glad indeed your songs we'll greet.

None shall harm you,
None alarm you,
Sacred be your dear retreat;
Love shall guard you,
Love reward you,
For your music pure and sweet.

Oh how hateful,
How ungrateful,
He who would disturb your rest!
No dear treasure,
Wake your measure,
Softly may you cheer my breast."

THE GERMAN MUSICIANS.

On a dark, rainy day, two weary-looking street minstrels took shelter from the storm, under the projecting roof of a horse shed. Not far from the place stood a small but pretty school-house, in which might be seen a group of bright-faced and busy children; some conning their lessons, some reciting with earnest attention, and others rejoicing with childhood's happy freedom from care, at a temporary release from some expected recitation.

The teacher, during the intervals of occupation, spied out the poor wanderers, and feeling a desire to help them, she concluded to invite them into the school-room, after receiving a promise from the sympathizing circle, that the interruption should not interfere in the least with their studies. Accordingly, the foreigners, who had begun to find their covering insufficient against the drenching rain, very gladly accepted the invitation, and modestly took their places at the farther end of the apartment.

Many bright and inquisitive eyes were turned upon them; but remembering their promise, the children again turned their prompt attention to their various exercises, and while the strangers were busily engaged with some books and a slate, they soon accomplished their required duties.

As a reward for their attention, they were allowed at recess to listen to several gay tunes upon the organ, accompanied by the tambourine, and very soon their lively feet joined in a merry dance. After this irrepressible ebullition of their glee, they each played a tune themselves, and when fully satisfied, voluntarily presented the tired ones with donations from their luncheon baskets, and with flowers that decked the room.

With these the boy made a wreath for his sister's head, but the girl adorned the little image of the virgin placed upon the organ; and then after a few entreaties, they both sang some German songs. In return the scholars sang their prettiest pieces from the "School Singer," and at any familiar melody, the faces of the listeners beamed with pleasure and delight. Before the group was dismissed for home, the boy asked for a pen and paper; and during the time he was left alone, he wrote the following history of himself and his pretty sister for the teacher and her scholars.

"My name is Hendrik Glaubenstein, and I am fourteen years old. My sister Gertruyd, who is as good as an angel, is just sixteen. We have left our poor old father and mother in Germany, and have come to this happy country to make money.

I went to school every winter, and in summer I staid at home on account of work; but after it was done, my sister and I studied together, sometimes in the fields, sometimes in our little cabin. My sister earned all she could by spinning yarn and knitting stockings, which I took once a fortnight to the nearest town to sell. In the mean time I earned all I could, by driving the sheep of a rich neighbor of ours to pasture.

But somehow or other, we did not get along, as well as we wanted to; and we always found it difficult to get the rent ready for our landlord, who was cruel and bad tempered. What to do we did not know, so I had at last to give up my winter's schooling, to do errands for a little money.

Finally I bought me an organ, and with that I continued to pick up something at the Fairs; and I often had a kind word from the ladies and gentlemen, who would listen to me and give me silver pieces. At home my sister always sang with me when I practised, and we could make different parts to our music. I begged her to go with me sometimes, for I knew we could get more money if she would help me with her voice. But she said she could not leave our poor old mother, so I wandered round alone.

In one of my journeys, I met a lad who said he was going to America, and he told me if I would go too, I should make money fast, and we should come home rich men. I told my sister all about this, and she thought it would be a good plan, but that I should not go alone, for I was too young.

After waiting a little while, we got our sister Liesle and her husband Klaus, to come and live with mother, and then we made ready to leave as fast possible. As soon as we could get enough money to pay our passage, with many tears we bade good-bye to all at home; and then with prayers to the good God, we travelled on foot through France, till we reached the sea-shore. Here, we were stowed away in the great hold of the ship, with many other poor companions; and sometimes we were sick, and sometimes we were hungry, for we did not bring enough victuals to last us all our voyage. But Gertruyd was so pleasant to the others, helping the women to take care of their babies, and often singing her pretty songs, that every one gave us something, and we managed to get along.

When we reached New York we were in great trouble, for we knew nobody, and had no home to go to; but the good God took care of us, and made a kind lady notice us standing alone on the Battery. We told her our wants, and after giving us a supper and a nice bed for the night, she sent us to some poor Germans, where we staid till we had learned a little of the American language.

We did very well for a while, singing together, while my sister played upon the tambourine; but soon there were so many other organ players in the streets, that we thought we would go to some other towns near by. We went all through New York, and now we are going to travel over your pleasant State, and if we do well we can go home in two years. Then I shall buy a farm, and a cow for our dear old mother and father, and then we can all live together as happy as princes. Gertruyd can marry our friend Cornelius, for though he is poor, she has always liked him.

Many good people have offered us both nice places; but I like my organ too well to give it up, and my sister will not leave me for never so fine a home, because she promised mother to take care of me always. We live on as little as possible, and dress in very poor clothes so as to save all we can; for we say, no one will care how we look, if we are only tidy and honest, and make trouble for nobody.

The Virgin Mother, to whom we have erected a shrine in our organ, smiles upon us, and will keep us from all harm, so we need fear nothing. We are both well contented with little; and as long as we do not lose our voices, we can make several dollars a day, and so we are happy. Good-bye to you, and the kind-hearted children who have been so pleasant to us, and that God will bless you all, is the prayer of Hendrik and his sister Gertruyd."

LETTER FROM A LITTLE GIRL TO AN ABSENT SCHOOL-MATE.

SUNNY SIDE.

MY DEAR LILY:

As you were so kind as to remember me at Christmas, I will write you a letter about our other yearly festival, the "May-day Coronation." Of course, you remember many of our pleasant gatherings, at different rural spots, on that occasion. But I do not think we ever had a pleasanter time than this year at May Mount; for so we christened the place where we had our party.

Early in the morning, we voted for the Queen, and after every one had written their choice on the big slate, we found that Annie was unanimously elected. We were all delighted, as she had been so long separated from us, and then she chose her maids of honor and two pages. We selected some pretty songs, and all rehearsed the pieces of poetry we intended for our Queen; then we were very busy finishing off moss baskets, and making bouquets and wreaths for the procession.

We had two beautiful banners, all trimmed round with evergreen; one had on it, "All Hail, thou lovely May;" and the other, "Sweet Spring has come." We also twined a tall May-pole with evergreen and put on the top a great wreath of daffies. For a throne we had an armchair, and on each side two large bouquets of flowers. These were sent us from Boston, besides three beautiful wreaths for the Queen and her maids of honor. The wild flowers were so plentiful, that we had very pretty wreaths for all the subjects too, which we cannot say every year.

At two o'clock we all started, each one carrying baskets of refreshments for the table, which was to be laid in pic-nic style. We had a great deal of fun walking over to the place, for the wind blew quite strong, and we had as much as we could do to get all our things safely to Riverdale. After we arrived in the little wood, we chose a green mound for the throne, and spread carpets round for fear of dampness; and then, while the young ladies made the arrangements for the celebration, we scampered off for wild flowers.

The boys were just as full of fun as they could be, and one of them caught a little snake and chased us; but we did not mind any thing, we felt so happy ourselves. One of the girls tore her dress, and another fell out of the swing, which one of the gentlemen kindly put up for us; but we determined to laugh at everything.

Soon the parents and company all assembled, and then we went through our usual ceremonies. Our Queen looked sweetly, and the wreaths were very becoming to all the girls. Each one said a piece of poetry to her majesty, and then kissing her hand, said, "Long live the Queen of May." We had a bishop, who put on the crowns and made a nice little address; and then the pages introduced all the ladies and gentlemen to the Queen, who sat smiling and blushing at her honors.

Then we all stood in a circle and sang our May song round the May-pole, but the wind scattered our voices, and they did not sound so well as in school. After that, we played games and went to the top of Prospect Rock, from which we could see the river, the woods and all the village, which looked very pretty with its three churches, and nice white houses.

After we had rambled round till we were tired, we took some refreshment at the table, which was loaded with good things and looked very pretty. Then we repeated several of our songs, by particular request; and we did a great deal better than at first. Just before sunset we packed up all the things and prepared to go home. Some of us rode, packed eight or nine, close in a wagon, and the rest of us walked home.

We stopped a moment at the old apple-tree, where the first May-party was gathered, and some of the oldest girls gave an account of the "Prince of Wales," who was present on the occasion.

We had a grand time, and I hope we may have just such another every year. I pressed my wreath as a memento of the occasion, and have put it away to show you, when you come to make me a visit. With love to all your sisters, I remain your affectionate school-mate,

AGNES.

AN ACCOUNT OF A SEA-SHORE VISIT,

_FOR THOSE WHO HAVE RECEIVED THE "NANTASKET SEA-WEEDS."_

Two little girls, rejoicing in the names of Mary and Maimée, were one summer recommended to visit the sea-shore, to regain the health and strength which they had lost by too steady an application to study. After being duly prepared, one by the "Good Aunt," whom every body knew and loved for her many acts of disinterestedness; the other by a most excellent mother, they both started off with friend "Maimiotti" for a snug little nook at Lynn.

Wild was the delight of the trio, as they took up their comfortable quarters with the good-natured fisherman; and never were they tired of gazing at the beautiful expanse of waters spread before them. Many were the plans formed for that week of leisure, and unbounded freedom; certainly enough to fill up six common months, and for a while, what to do first was a difficult question.

However, moderation, or "A happy Medium," was to be their motto; and though they were their own mistresses, with liberty to do just what they pleased, they showed a wonderful instance of self-government, and _were pleased_ to do right. Whether this is difficult or not, I leave to the decision of certain scholars, who have enjoyed a similar pleasure, when controlling themselves during the temporary absence of the Queen Bee.

Every day Mary, Maimée and "Maimiotti" were up bright and early before breakfast; and after a brisk walk on the beach, or in the surrounding woods, they returned with fine appetites and an inexhaustible supply of spirits.

When proper attention had been bestowed upon the arrangement of their rooms, they passed a portion of their time aiding the fisherman's wife in the homely details of house-keeping; sometimes holding the little baby, and sometimes devoting themselves to the amusement of sick Kitty B., who was always pleased with the attention.

After this wholesome discipline, they sat down to their sewing with renewed interest, and while one read aloud, accomplished wonders of work with their fast flying needles, unconscious of the flight of time.

At length the hour for the bath, with its important and interesting preparations arrived. After decking themselves in the most fantastic costumes, great was the frolic at "the Cradle," as they gambolled in the waters like so many sea-nymphs; but vainly striving to emulate them in the art of swimming.

A nap and the duties of the toilet followed this delightful exhilaration; for they considered a tidy exterior indispensable to their comfort and pleasure, even in their retirment from all social life. At their meals a constant flow of lively conversation, and never ceasing jokes enlivened the hour; while at the same time, a graceful attention to the wants of those around them marked their refinement, and made them the pets of the household. They all seemed to remember the infinite power of good manners, and in their wildest fun never overstepped the bounds of a becoming propriety.

In the afternoon, a little more reading, letters and journal-writing filled up the time, till cooler hours allowed another ramble on the rocks, or a stroll after the sweet wild flowers in the woods around. And famous were the collections of Iceland moss, sea-shells, pebbles and pressed flowers, made by those indefatigable bodies for "the dear ones at home."

Every day brought some new pleasure, and though apart from the throng of gay visitors around them, they were never weary of their simple life; and their happy hearts were a constant offering of gratitude to the Giver of all the fair and glorious things in the world about them. The sunset clouds, the flight of birds, the brilliancy of the sea and sky, the bracing air and the soft moonlight, filled their hearts with good and holy feelings; and without knowing it, they were made better by the beauty of Nature.

The building of a stone cottage near by, was the source of constant interest; and many were the pleasant visits to its various apartments, decorated with all the appliances of wealth and taste. By the aid of a kind gentleman's camera, a perfect drawing of the cottage, and a pretty little bird's eye view of the shore were obtained; but better than all, an original sketch of their humble cot was taken, as a memento of those sunny hours.

Fishing for cod and haddock with the skipper in his dory, sea-sickness notwithstanding, was one of their rare occasions of enjoyment. Then the delightful trip to Nahant, in a sail boat, will long be remembered by those hardy adventurers, one of whom almost pitched the merry crew into the briny deep, as the stout fisherman pushed the little bark homeward against the resisting winds and waves.

But last, though not least in their annals, was the grand "Clam bake," when "all the folks" from far and near, came to have a good time, and eat as much baked fish, boiled lobsters and hot clams as possible. One of the party, carried away by the spirit of the occasion, and imitating the example of those around, forgot the motto of the week and ate too many clams. As a necessary consequence she forfeited a delicious bath; thereby proving that every excess is followed by the loss of some anticipated enjoyment, and worse than all, by an accompanying loss of self-respect.

A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF A SUNDAY SCHOOL SCHOLAR.

Many were the tears shed at the death of lovely Carry G.; the joy of her parents, the idol of her school-mates, and the pride of her Teachers. She belonged to the Sunday-school of the First Church in ----, and no one was more regular in attendance, or more thorough in the preparation of her lessons. But death, who had been busy in the village, visited the little band of scholars; and one of its choicest flowers was transplanted to a fairer soil.

The love of a fond mother, of an affectionate sister and brothers, the interest of her many friends could not save her; and after a short separation, she followed her beloved father to that Heaven, whither he had preceded her.

The deepest sympathy prevailed among all her class-mates and school-companions, during her illness, and many were the pleasant incidents brought to mind, as they thought upon her guileless life.

She was about eleven years old, and had already made considerable proficiency in her studies at school; always maintaining a very good rank, and being noted for her habits of neatness and regularity. In music she evinced a great taste, playing with ease and correctness, and in her father's sickness, she was quite a solace with her little songs.

Of flowers she was excessively fond; always the first to find them in her garden, and ever ready to join in the ramble after the wild blossoms of the neighboring hills and dales. Her last effort of health, was an early morning walk, the pleasures of which she enjoyed exceedingly, for she was keenly alive to the beauties of Nature.

In poetry she took great delight, frequently reading selections, with great feeling and pathos. One piece, of which she was particularly fond, she neatly copied off for her mother, to whom she read it just before her sickness, with such peculiar earnestness and sweetness, that it was like listening to the tones of an angel. It is called "The Inquiry," and may be found in "The Common School Speaker and Reader."

To all these pleasant qualities, which made her so agreeable at home and abroad, she added a sacred regard for truth. In all her dealings at school, this was very conspicuous; and to have her word doubted caused the deepest pang to her sensitive nature.

In her last sickness the fever affected her brain, so that she was not always conscious of what was going on around her; but in her wanderings, she was constantly thinking of her school-mates, and in imagination participating with them in their usual duties. A few hours before she died, she partook of a little refreshment; and then with her usual sweet smile of intelligence, gave her mother her parting kiss of affection. Soon after she slept in peace; and free from all pain and anguish, she is now one of the bright celestial choir.

The scholars of her school, sang several touching hymns at her funeral; and as they took their last look at her remains, beautiful even in death, their grief burst forth in sobs, and general sadness pervaded the room. The earnest prayer of the minister made a deep impression; and the appropriate services at the Sunday-School, on the next Sabbath, will long be remembered by those who heard them. May the many virtues of this sweet child be imitated, and may all those who loved her in life, be enabled to followed her bright example.

On the coffin-lid, which was covered with her favorite flowers, the gifts of those who loved her, were placed the following lines, the effusion of a friend:

"Sweet flowers upon the Bier,
Bedewed with Nature's tears!
No more her Child, reposing here,
Within her fane appears.

The silent bending skies,
Will weeping vigils keep;
While myriad glistening starry eyes,
Attend her peaceful sleep.

Far, far beyond those skies,
Where dwell the immortal throng,
Strains of a new-born spirit rise,--
Swells the celestial song.

The tides of rapture roll,
The Heaven's eternal rounds,
As if a _union_ there of _souls_
Were mingling in the sounds.

O let us weep; away
From that blest land of peace,
We shall not always lingering stay;
Soon will our yearning cease."

A SIMPLE STORY FOR GEORGY.

A nice little duck once took it into his wise head, that he would like to travel, and so get vast stores of learning. Upon hearing that there was to be a grand gathering of all the fowls in the country, he resolved to be present at the exhibition.

So upon a bright balmy day, he was taken in a cage for his carriage, and put in the midst of the mixed assembly. Upon looking round, he soon spied out his near neighbors, the beautiful rough-neck pigeons, who cooed a pleasant welcome.

There he saw great Turkey-gobblers, white Geese, China Fowls, and Chickens of every description. The Guinea-hens frightened him with their loud screams, and for a while, he was perfectly bewildered with the din of the many sounds about him.

Very soon he made the acquaintance of a pretty little Polish couple, who told him they were the descendants of the famous "Thaddeus of Warsaw," and "Sobieski;" and they told him a pathetic story of their many sufferings, and final sad death away from their country.

With the other fowls he could not make any acquaintance, they so stared him out of countenance, from envy of his beautiful plumage. In most disconsolate tones he begged to be taken out of the crowd, and satisfied with this specimen of city life, he was ever afterwards contented with _home_.

Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack!
Said the duck in sad plight!
Oh! carry me back,
To my sweet country home;
Where there is no lack
Of fresh air and light,
Where I'm not on the rack,
For want of a little room.
Take me from this clack,
Or, struck with a blight,
I shall die, alack!
And that will seal my doom.

_A Duck's Lament._

A STORY FOR SWEET LITTLE FANNY.

Out in the country there lives a funny little boy, who makes a great deal of sport in his family, by saying and doing a great many droll things.

This merry little fellow owns a beautiful Maltese kitten, which he calls "Minnie," and with her he has a great many frolics. She is a very great favorite with every body, and visitors are sure to notice her bright eyes, her white breast, and her graceful motions.

Like all little boys and girls, she likes to be noticed; and when she is caressed and petted, she shows her satisfaction by purring as loud as possible. But if she is teazed, she is very unhappy, and runs off into a dark hole in the cellar, so her little master cannot find her.

One day he took it into his busy head, that, as he had a cold bath every day, pussy must have one too. So off he goes to the bathing-tub, and notwithstanding Minnie's pitiful cries, he plunges her into the cold water, and gives her a thorough ducking.

Being missed by his mother, search was made for the little rogue, and he was found in the act, apparently very much satisfied with his performance. He was quite surprised to find, that instead of doing a kind act, he had unintentionally been very rough with his darling Kitty.

Great was his sorrow, and after carefully drying his pet, he tried, by every effort in his power, to make her forget his strange treatment. Minnie quickly recovered her health and spirits; and soon after she was seen chasing her tail, and jumping round among the chairs.

Her little master, in his _first_ pair of boots, clattered round the room in great glee; and when tired of racing, he sat down in the corner, to teach his Maltese playfellow how to read. But she did not get any farther than "mew," and I guess her teacher will not try that much longer, for she cannot learn as fast as little Fanny. When _she_ can read and spell, she too shall have a pretty little kitty for her next birth-day present, or if she likes better, a beautiful great doll.

SKETCHES FROM A FIRESIDE JOURNAL.

This week I am to have a vacation, so I will see how much I can do at home, and try to spend the time properly.

Monday. I was up early and walked with the girls, though the weather was dreary. I came home and helped mother get breakfast, and then sewed all the morning. In the afternoon I took care of my little brother, and amused the other children, while mother was out. Before dark I played ball on the Court-house steps.

Tuesday. I was lazy and lost my walk, so I felt cross all the morning, and every thing seemed to go wrong. At last I determined to conquer myself and be pleasant, and then I helped mother make some cake. In the afternoon I learned how to darn stockings, and father was very much pleased with me for doing so well. In the evening mother let us have a frolic, and we dressed up in all sorts of characters. We had an old woman with a long nose, and "Mrs. Jemima Jones," who wore a most absurd looking, beaver bonnet.

Wednesday. I walked with the girls to the Monument, and we collected a quantity of moss, to make baskets and vases. I helped mother take care of the children, and stopped a quarrel between my two brothers. I made a whole sheet, so mother said I might go to the vestry, and help tie up bouquets for the Warren street Sunday School. The room was full of ladies, and we made fifty beautiful bunches of flowers, which were sent into the city on long poles. In the evening father and mother went to hear Mr. Giles lecture, and they came home perfectly delighted with him.

Thursday. The fourth of July! I did not go into Boston, as I had been the year before; but some of our Sunday-School went to see the Floral Procession, which they said was very beautiful. The girls, who staid at home, went off on a pic-nic, and we had a fine time, for we had a boat-ride and games in the woods.

Friday. I went with my Cousin and a party of girls to visit the woollen factories. We went into all the different rooms, where they were dyeing, spinning, weaving and folding cloth; but the machinery made such a noise, that we could not hear each other talk. In the night there was a terrible fire; two houses were burned and a poor little boy perished in the flames. Every body went to see the ruins, and the next day all the ladies were busy making clothes, and raising money for the sufferers.

Saturday. I was very busy, at home, all the morning, sweeping, dusting and putting the parlor in order. A large party on horseback went to Blue Hill, so I stopped awhile to look, as they passed through the village. In the afternoon I mended all my clothes, learned my Sunday-School lesson, and went to walk. I then watered my garden, and gathered some flowers for a bouquet, to be put in church the next day.

Sunday. I went to church all day, and then father took a walk with us. We went to Harrison Grove, where the Sunday-school once had a celebration, and two little children were christened under the trees. It was a beautiful sight, and I often think of the pleasant time we had, listening to our minister, and the other gentlemen who spoke to us, on that interesting occasion.

SARAH.

UNDA, OR THE FOUNTAIN FAIRY.

In the warm bright days of pleasant October, as some happy, healthful children were collected on the banks of a bubbling brook, twining gay autumn leaves into wreaths and bouquets, with one accord they asked for a story. "What shall it be about?" "Oh, about fairies," said a bright eyed girl, who had lately been revelling in the fascinating tales of the "Forty Thieves," and "Aladdin's wonderful lamp." "Well, a story you shall have, but only about good fairies; for a wicked fairy seems as inconsistent as an ungentle lamb, an ugly beauty, or a dark sunbeam." "Oh, good, good, good!" echoed from them all; and after the lunch of wedding cake was finished, and each one had crept as near as possible to the narrator, she began.

"Once upon a time there lived a Fairy, or Fair spirit, in a crystal palace. This was built upon the polished surface of an immense mirror, and being reflected in the clear depths below, it was an object of unsurpassable magnificence.

Her name was Unda. For many, many years she had been busy doing good, refreshing the earth, the trees and the modest flowerets, and giving bountiful supplies to all the living creatures in her extensive dominions.

The fame of her beauty and goodness at last reached the ears of the excellent ruler of a certain great city, and he resolved to invite her to visit his people. Like his father before him, he had always striven to better their condition, and by her pure presence, he hoped to banish all the _evil spirits_, which frequently tormented and degraded his beloved subjects.

Accordingly an invitation was sent to Unda, and she agreed to come within a year, provided a safe and convenient road should be constructed for her especial benefit, and pleasant resting places erected, where she might stop and collect her strength. This was promised; and a hundred thousand magicians were immediately set to work to cut down hills, blow up rocks, and fill up valleys, so that her course might be unobstructed, and her access to the great city might be easy and agreeable.

The news of her coming was sent to distant parts of the country by the Flying Lightnings, who were employed as the ruler's messengers. On the appointed day, thousands of people were brought safely to the place by the giant, Steam, who, by a puff of his breath, could waft a hundred chariots across the land, and great ships across the sea, in less than no time.

Great was the desire to see the beautiful stranger, and vast the preparations made in honor of her arrival. The city was ornamented with flowers and evergreen, and sounds of music and shouts of rejoicing were heard in every street. A procession was formed, three miles in length, composed of men of all ranks, ages and professions, each bearing an appropriate offering, and all vying with each other in the costliness of their gifts. Myriads of gallant horsemen, on gaily caparisoned steeds, bore along splendid flags and banners; children scattered flowers in endless profusion, and representatives of various nations all went forth in their pomp to greet the distinguished guest.

A pretty lake, in the centre of a spacious park interspersed with green lawns, shady trees and pleasant walks, was especially fitted up for her residence. And there, with a prospect of the hills and dales of the neighboring country, and the companionship of her sweet sisters, Lux and Aer, the good ruler hoped she would be tempted to remain forever.

Every thing was ready, and crowds of people with happy, expectant faces, were waiting for the sign of her approach. Soon soft musical tones were heard, like the breathings of an Æolian harp. Then swelling clearer and louder, instantly up rose the lovely Water Spirit, radiant with gems, and decked with a scarf of rainbow hues. Dancing and leaping higher and higher, till she had attained her full majestic height, she bowed her glittering head as a token of homage to the Father of all, and then scattered cooling drops, like blessings, upon the gathered multitude.

Great was the enthusiasm at her arrival, and loud were the acclamations that rent the sky, as all drank in the beauties of the graceful nymph before them; and it seemed as if they could never tire of gazing at her various charms. In the evening, to conclude the festivities of the day, the Flame Fairies lit up the city with magic brilliancy, and fire pictures, of every description, were exhibited, with most gorgeous effect, to the assembled thousands.

Unda was so much pleased with her reception, that she resolved to abide in the great city; and now her little daughters sparkle in various parts of the metropolis, aiding their bright mother in her efforts to elevate humanity.

No place is too grand, and none too humble for her ministrations of mercy; and daily does she visit the sick and the wretched, the poor and the prosperous, gladdening many a hearth-stone with her smiles, and bringing peace and plenty to the squalid abodes of vice and poverty. Blessed is her mission, and long may that city rejoice in the presence of Unda, the Fountain Fairy, and may her store-houses be inexhaustible."

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