Chapter I: AM only five years old; but I have a great deal of trouble. Papa pulls

my ears, and calls me a sad rogue; brother Tom asks me every night what new mischief I have been up to today; and poor mamma sighs, and says I am the most troublesome child she ever saw.

But dear good grandma looks up from her knitting, and smiles as she says, "Tut, tut, daughter! Our Amy isn't any worse than a little girl I knew some thirty years ago."

"O grandma!" cried I one day, "do please tell me about her; for I like to hear about naughty little girls. What was her name, grandma?"

Grandma looked over her spectacles at mamma and smiled, and mamma nodded and smiled back. Then grandma said, "I think I will tell you of one of little Clara's capers; but mind, you are not to go and do the same thing the first chance you get."

This is the story as grandmother told it,--

"Little Clara lived on a farm away out in the
country. She was the youngest of seven children,
and a great pet, of course. But Clara's little
restless feet and mischievous fingers often
brought her into trouble and disgrace.

"One day Clara's mother had occasion to go to the
store, which was three miles away. Clara wanted to
go too. Her mother feared she would be in the way,
and looked doubtful; but big brother Ben said,
'Let her go, mother. She'll be good, I know.'

"'Yes; let her go,' said Susan, who was trying to
net a bead purse, and keep Clara's fingers out of
her box of beads at the same time.

"'Do let her go!' said Roger. 'I want to rig my ship this afternoon; and a fellow can't do much with her around.'

"So it was decided that Clara should go; and it
was the work of but a few moments to polish up the
chubby face and hands, and brush the curly hair.
The pink dress, red shoes, and white sun-bonnet,
were put on as quickly as possible, and Clara was
ready.

"'Now, do try to behave yourself, child,' said
Susan, as Ben lifted the little girl into the
wagon.

"'Of course I will,' replied Clara, pouting her
red lips.

"'But did she behave herself?' you ask. Ah! I will
tell you.

"When they reached the store, Mr. Dale, the
storekeeper, came out to assist them; and, as he
helped Clara out of the wagon, he called her 'a
little lady,' which made her feel all of two
inches taller than usual. Then he gave her a stick
of candy, and lifted her to a seat on the counter,
close beside a dear old pussy-cat, who purred
loudly as the little girl smoothed her fur.

"Clara's mother had a good many things to buy, and
very soon forgot all about her little daughter;
but when Ben came in, half an hour later, his
first question was, 'Where's Clara, mother?'

"Sure enough, where was Clara? Her seat was empty.
She had disappeared. 'Clara, Clara!' called both
her mother and Ben; but there was no answer.

"'She's in some mischief,' said Ben; and, as quick
as thought, he rushed into the back part of the
store, followed by his mother and Mr. Dale. What a
sight met their eyes! There stood Clara, in the
centre of the room, stepping back slowly, as a
pool of molasses, streaming steadily from a
hogshead in the corner, crept towards the toes of
her little red shoes. Ben caught up Clara as quick
as a flash, and----"

"No, grandma," interrupted mamma, "it was Mr. Dale who did that, while Ben made haste to turn the faucet to prevent further mischief."

"Why, mamma," said I, "how do you know? Were you there?"

"I heard about it," said she; and she and grandma both smiled. "The little girl was just my age, and I knew her very well."

"And your names were both Clara," said I. "How queer!"

And mamma and grandma must have thought it queer, too; for they both laughed heartily.

F. A. B.

AUNT MATILDA.

WHAT should we do in our house if it were not for our Aunt Matilda? She is the first one out of bed in the morning, and the last one to go to bed at night. She sees that things are right in the kitchen, and right in the parlor.

Father wants his breakfast by half-past six o'clock this summer weather. Aunt Matilda rises before five, and calls the girls, and sees that the rooms are in order. Then she calls the children to be washed and dressed.

Yes, that is a good likeness of her, as you see her combing my hair. She is not young, you perceive, nor yet very old. Sometimes I get a little impatient, and fidget, because she is so particular; but our quarrels always end in my kissing her, and saying, "You are a darling Aunty, after all."

Mother is an invalid: so she cannot do much house-work, or see to the children. But Aunt Matilda is mother, aunt, and house-maid, all in one. Sometimes she even acts as stable-boy, and harnesses the horse to the carryall; for there are few things that Aunty does not know how to do, and to do well.

Do we go to school? Yes, and no. Our only school is one that Aunt Matilda keeps for us in the library. She teaches us to read, to write, and to draw. She can play on the piano, and has begun to teach me music. Oh! What _should_ we all do without Aunt Matilda?

MISS MAUD.

ANNA'S BIRD.

ANNA has a little bird, and she calls it Tot. You must try to find out from the picture what sort of a bird it is. It can sing and play; and it is so tame, that it will put its bill between Anna's lips when she says, "Kiss me, Tot."

Her dog Fancy is quite fond of the bird, and will let it light on his head; and Anna is trying to make Muff, the cat, give up her habit of killing birds. But I hope that Anna will be careful, and not trust Muff too far.

I have heard of a cat in a bird-shop, that was trained to take care of birds, instead of harming them; but this is a rare case. It is hard to keep a cat from catching birds, and from troubling the little young ones in their nests.

Anna is so fond of Tot, that she will not let a cat come into the room where he is. Tot can whistle a tune. He likes to light on Anna's head, and will sometimes almost hide himself under her thick hair. She feeds him, and gives him a bath every day, and lets him fly about the room.

If Tot were to fly out of the window, I think he would try to get back to his own little cage, so fond is he of Anna.

ANNA'S AUNT.

THE STORY OF THE SQUASHES.