"My dear," the careful parent said, "Let not strange notions fill your head: 'Tis not the gold that we possess That const.i.tutes our happiness.

"The Lord Mayor, when a little boy, His time did properly employ; And, as he grew from youth to man, To follow goodness was his plan.

"And that's the cause they love him so, And cheer him all the way they go; They love him for his smiling face More than for all his gold and lace."

CLEVER LITTLE THOMAS

When Thomas Poole First went to school, He was but scarcely seven, Yet knew as well To read and spell As most boys of eleven.

He took his seat, And wrote quite neat, And never idly acted; And then beside He multiplied, Divided, and subtracted.

His master said, And stroked his head, "If thus you persevere, My little friend, You may depend Upon a prize next year."

WILLIAM'S ESCAPE

'Tis winter, cold winter, and William has been To look at the place on the pool Where Henry was drown'd by the ice breaking in, About half a mile from the school.

And Henry was told on that very same day He must not go into that field, But then, as he thought, if he did disobey, The fault might for once be conceal'd.

A lesson for William, who hangs down his head, Without any spirits for play; His favourite friend and companion is dead Because _he would have his own way_.

Good Girls and Bad

REBECCA'S AFTERTHOUGHT

Yesterday Rebecca Mason, In the parlour by herself, Broke a handsome china basin, Plac'd upon the mantel-shelf.

Quite alarm'd, she thought of going Very quietly away, Not a single person knowing Of her being there that day.

But Rebecca recollected She was taught deceit to shun; And the moment she reflected, Told her mother what was done;

Who commended her behaviour, Lov'd her better, and forgave her.

A HINT TO MARY ANNE

"Mamma, dear mamma," cried in haste Mary Anne, As into the parlour she eagerly ran, "I hear that a giant is just come to town, So tall, he is often obliged to stoop down; Oh, pray let us see him, oh, do let us go; Indeed, dear mamma, he's a wonderful show."

"You are earnest, my love, and shall not be denied,"

Her truly affectionate mother replied.

"A lady this morning has also arrived Who of arms and of legs from her birth was deprived, Yet is in a number of ways as expert As if she were able these limbs to exert.

"We'll visit Miss Beffin to-morrow, and then I'll speak of the giant and lady again; You are not mistaken, his overgrown size We cannot behold without feeling surprise, Whilst Beffin's example most forcibly stands A silent rebuke to all--_indolent hands_."

HOW TO WRITE A LETTER

Maria intended a letter to write, But could not begin (as she thought) to indite, So went to her mother with pencil and slate, Containing "Dear Sister," and also a date.

"With nothing to say, my dear girl, do not think Of wasting your time over paper and ink; But certainly this is an excellent way, To try with your slate to find something to say.

"I will give you a rule," said her mother, "my dear, Just think for a moment your sister is here: And what would you tell her? consider, and then, Though silent your tongue, you can speak with your pen."

NEWS FOR PAPA

When Sarah's papa was from home a great way, She attempted to write him a letter one day.

First ruling the paper, an excellent plan, In all proper order Miss Sarah began.

She said she lamented sincerely to tell That her dearest mamma had been very unwell; That the story was long, but that when he came back, He would hear of the shocking behaviour of Jack.

Though an error or two we by chance may detect, It was better than treating papa with neglect; And Sarah, when older, we know will learn better, And write single "I" with a capital letter.

MARIA'S CHARITY

Maria's aunt, who lived in Town, Once wrote a letter to her niece, And sent, wrapp'd up, a new half-crown, Besides a pretty pocket-piece.

Maria jump'd with joy and ran To tell her sister the good news; She said, "I mean to buy a fan, Come, come along with me to choose."

They quickly tied their hats, and talk'd Of yellow, lilac, pink, and green; But far the sisters had not walk'd, Before the saddest sight was seen.

Upon the ground a poor lame man, Helpless and old, had tumbled down; She thought no more about the fan, But gave to him her new half-crown.