ring, and Gratiano (not choosing to be outdone in generosity by his lord) gave it to her. And there was laughing among these ladies to think, when they got home, how they would tax their husbands with giving away their rings, and swear that they had given them as a present to some woman.

Portia, when she returned, was in that happy mood of mind which never fails to attend the consciousness of having performed a good action: her cheerful spirits enjoyed everything she saw the moon never seemed to shine so bright before; and when that pleasant moon was hid behind a cloud, then a light which she saw from her house at Belmont as well pleased her charmed fancy, and she said to Nerissa, "That light we see is burning in my hall; how far that little candle throws its beams; so shines a good deed in a naughty world!" and hearing the sound of music from her house she said, "Methinks that music sounds much sweeter than by day."

And now Portia and Nerissa entered the house, and dressing themselves in their own apparel, they awaited the arrival of their husbands, who soon followed them with Anthonio; and Bassanio presenting his dear friend to the lady Portia, the congratulations and welcomings of that lady were hardly over when they perceived Nerissa and her husband quarrelling in a corner of the room. "A quarrel already ?" said Portia. "What is the matter?" Gratiano replied, "Lady, it is about a paltry gilt ring that Nerissa gave me, with words upon it like the poetry on a cutler's knife: Love me, and leave me not."

"What does the poetry or value of the ring signify ?" said Nerissa. "You swore to me when I gave it to you, that you would keep it till the hour of death; and now you say you gave it to the lawyer's clerk. I know you gave it to a woman." By this hand," replied Gratiano, "I gave it to a youth, a kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy, no higher than yourself; he was clerk to the young counsellor that by his wise pleading saved Anthonio's life: this prating boy begged it for a fee, and I could not for my life deny him." Portia said, "You were to blame, Gratiano, to part with your wife's first gift. I gave my lord Bassanio a ring, and I am sure he would not part with it for all the world." Gratiano, in excuse for his fault, now said, "My lord Bassanio gave his ring away to the counsellor, and then the boy, his clerk, that took some pains in writing, he begged my ring."

Portia, hearing this, seemed very angry, and reproached Bassanio for giving away her ring: and she said, Nerissa had taught her what to believe, and that she knew some woman had the ring. Bassanio was very unhappy to have offended his dear lady, and he said with great earnestness, "No!-by my honour, no woman had it, but a civil doctor, who refused three thousand ducats of me, and begged the ring, which when I denied him, he went displeased away. What could I do, sweet Portia ? I was so beset with shame for my seeming ingratitude, that I was forced to send the ring after him. Pardon me, good lady; had you been there, I think you would have begged the ring of me to give the worthy doctor."

"Ah!" said Anthonio, "I am the unhappy cause of these quarrels."

Portia bid Anthonio not to grieve at that, for that he was welcome notwithstanding; and then Anthonio said, "I once did lend my body for Bassanio's sake; and but for him to whom your husband gave the ring, I should have now been dead. I dare be bound again, my soul upon the forfeit, your lord will never more break his faith with you." "Then you shall be his surety," said Portia; "give him this ring, and bid him keep it better than the other." When Bassanio looked at this ring, he was strangely surprised to find it was the same he gave away; and then Portia told him, how she was the young counsellor, and Nerissa was her clerk; and Bassanio found, to his unspeakable wonder and delight, that it was by the noble courage and wisdom of his wife that Anthonio's life

was saved.

And Portia again welcomed Anthonio, and gave him letters which by some chance had fallen into her hands, which contained an account of Anthonio's ships, that were supposed lost, being safely arrived in the harbour. So these tragical beginnings of this rich merchant's story were all forgotten in the unexpected good fortune which ensued; and there was leisure to laugh at the comical adventure of the rings, and the husbands that did not know their own wives: Gratiano merrily swearing, in a sort of rhyming speech, that -while he lived, he'd fear no other thing

So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.

A NOONDAY WALK.

COME, let us go into the thick shade, for it is the noonday, and the summer sun beats hot upon our heads.

The shade is pleasant and cool; the branches meet above our heads, and shut out the sun as with a green curtain; the grass is Soft to our feet, and the clear brook washes the roots of the trees.

The sloping bank is covered with flowers; let us lie down upon it; let us throw our limbs on the fresh grass and sleep, for all things are still and we are quite alone.

The cattle can lie down to sleep in the cool shade, but we can do what is better; we can praise the great God who made us. He made the warm sun and the cool shade; the trees that grow upward, and the brooks that run'murmuring along. All the things that we see are His work.

Can we raise our voices up to the high heaven? Can we make Him to hear who is above the stars? We need not raise our voices to the stars, for He heareth us when we only whisper, when we breathe our words softly with a low voice. He that filleth the heavens is here also.

The buds spread into leaves, and the blossoms swell to fruit, but they know not how they grow, nor who caused them to spring up from the bosom of the earth. Ask them if they will tell thee; bid them break forth into singing, and fill the air with pleasant sounds.

They smell sweet; they look beautiful; but they are quite silent; no sound is in the still air, no murmur of voices among the green leaves.

The plants and the trees are made to give fruit to man, but man is made to praise God who made him.

We love to praise Him, because He loveth to bless us; we thank Him for life, because it is a pleasant thing to be alive. We love God who hath created all things; we love all beings, because they are the creatures of God.

We cannot do good, as God does, to all persons everywhere; but we can rejoice that everywhere there is a God to do them good.

We will think of God when we play, and when we work; when we walk out, and when we come in; when we sleep, and when we wake, His praise shall dwell continually on our lips.

THE ROBINS.

CHAPTER VII.

THE FIRST FLIGHT OF THE NESTLINGS.

(ARLY in the morning the hen Redbreast awakened her young brood. "Come, my little ones," said she, "shake off your drowsiness; remember this is the day fixed for your entrance into the world. I desire that each of you will dress your feathers before you go out, for a slovenly bird is my aversion, and neatness is a great advantage to the appearance of everyone."

The father bird was upon the wing betimes, that he might give each of his young ones a breakfast before they attempted to leave the nest. When he had fed them he desired his mate to accompany him, as usual, to Mr. Benson's, where he found the parlour window open, and his young friends sitting with their mamma. Crumbs had been, according to custom, strewed before the window, which the other birds had nearly devoured; but the Redbreasts took their usual post on the tea-table, and the father bird sang his morning lay, after which they returned, with all possible speed, to the nest, for, having so important an affair to manage, they could not be long absent; neither could their young benefactors pay so much attention to them as usual, for they were impatient to fetch the birds from Miss Jenkins'; therefore, as soon as breakfast was ended, they set out upon their expedition. Harriet carried a basket large enough to hold two nests, and Frederick a smaller one for the other. Thus equipped, with a servant attending them, they set off.

Mr. Jenkins' house was about a mile from Mr. Benson's. It was it, and a charming garden behind; on one side were cornfields, and delightfully situated; there was a beautiful lawn and canal before on the other a wood. In such a retreat as this it was natural to expect to find a great many birds; but, to Miss Harriet's surprise, they only saw a few straggling ones here and there, which flew away the moment she and her brother appeared. On this Harriet observed to Frederick that she supposed Master Jenkins' practice of taking birds' nests had made them so shy. She said a great deal to him about the cruelties that naughty boy had boasted of the evening before, which Frederick promised to remember.

As soon as they arrived at the house Miss Jenkins ran out to receive them, but her brother was gone to school. "We are come, my dear Lucy," said Miss Benson, "to fetch the birds you promised

us.

"Oh! I know not what to say to you, my dear," said Miss Jenkins. "I have very bad news to tell you, and I fear you will heartily wish I had returned home immediately after the kind blame me exceedingly, though not more than I blame myself. I lecture your mamma favoured me with yesterday, which showed

me the cruelty of my behaviour, though I was then ashamed to own it.

"I walked as fast as I could all the way from your house, and determined to give each of the little creatures a good supper, for which purpose I had an egg boiled, and nicely chopped. I mixed up some bread and water very smooth, and put a little seed with the chopped egg amongst it, and then' carried it to the room where I left the nests; but what was my concern when I found that my care was too late for the greatest part of them! Every sparrow lay dead and bleeding! they seemed to have killed each other.

"In the nest of linnets, which were very young, I found one dead, two just expiring, and the other almost exhausted, but still able to swallow; to him, therefore, I immediately gave some of the food I had prepared, which greatly revived him, and, as I thought he would suffer with cold in the nest by himself, I covered him over with wool, and had this morning the pleasure of finding him quite recovered."

"What! all the sparrows and three linnets dead?" said Frederick, whose little eyes swam with tears at the melancholy tale. "And pray, Miss Jenkins, have you starved all the blackbirds too?" "Not all, my little friend,” answered Miss Jenkins; "but I must confess that some of them have fallen victims to my neglect. However, there are two fine ones alive, which I shall, with the surviving linnet, cheerfully resign to the care of my dear Harriet, whose tenderness will, I hope, be rewarded by the pleasure of hearing them sing when they are old enough. But I beg you will stay and rest yourselves after your walk."

"Let me see the birds first," said Frederick.

"That you shall do," answered Miss Jenkins; and, taking him by the hand, she conducted him to the room in which she kept them, accompanied by Miss Benson. Miss Jenkins then fed the birds, and gave particular instructions for making their food, and declared that she would never be a receiver of birds' nests any more, but expressed her apprehensions that it would be difficult to wean Edward from his propensity for taking them.

Miss Jenkins then took her young friends into the parlour to her governess (for her mamma was dead), who received them very kindly, and gave each of them a piece of cake and some fruit, after which Miss Jenkins led them again into the room where the birds were, and very carefully put the nest, with the poor solitary linnet, into one basket, and that with the two black birds into the other. Frederick was very urgent to carry the latter, which his sister consented to; and then, bidding adieu to their friend, they set off on their way home, attended by the maid as before.

Let us now return to the Redbreasts, whom we left on the wing flying back to the ivy wall, in order to take their young ones abroad. As the father entered the nest he cried out, with a cheerful voice, "Well, my nestlings, are you all ready?" "Yes," they replied. The mother then advanced, and desired that each of them would get upon the edge of the nest. Robin and Pecksy sprang up in an instant, but Dicky and Flapsy, being timorous, were not so expeditious.

The hearts of the parents felt great delight at the view they now had of their young family, which appeared to be strong, vigorous, and lively, and, in a word, endued with every gift of nature requisite

to their success in the world.

"Now," said the father, "stretch your wings, Robin, and flutter them a little in this manner (showing him the way), and be sure to observe my directions exactly." Very well," said he; "do not attempt to fly yet, for here is neither air nor space enough for that purpose. Walk gently after me to the wall, then follow me to the tree that stands close to it, and hop on from branch to branch as you will see me do; then rest yourself, and as soon as you see me fly away, spread your wings and exert all the strength you have to follow me."

Robin acquitted himself to admiration, and alighted very safely on the ground.

"Now stand still," said the father, "till the rest join us." Then going back, he called upon Dicky to do the same as his brother had done, but Dicky was very fearful of fluttering his wings, for he was a little coward, and expressed many apprehensions that he should not reach the ground without falling, as they were such a great height from it. His father, who was a very courageous bird, was quite angry with him.

"Why, you foolish little thing," said he, "do you mean to stay in the nest by yourself and starve? I shall leave off bringing you food, I assure you. Do you think your wings were given you to be always folded by your sides, and that the whole employment of your life is to dress your feathers and make yourself look pretty? Without exercise you cannot long enjoy health; besides, you will soon have your livelihood to earn, and, therefore, idleness would in you be the height of folly; get up this instant."

Dicky, intimidated by his father's displeasure, got up, and ad

vanced as far as the branch from which he was to descend; but here his fears returned, and, instead of making an effort to fly, he stood flapping his wings in a most irresolute manner, and suffered his father to lead the way twice without following him.

This good parent, finding he would not venture to fly, took a circuit unperceived by Dicky, and, watching the opportunity when his wings were a little spread, came suddenly behind him and pushed him off the branch. Dicky, finding himself in actual danger of falling, now gladly stretched his pinions, and, upborne by the air, he gently descended to the ground so near the spot where Robin stood that the latter easily reached him by hopping.

The mother now undertook to conduct Flapsy and Pecksy, whilst the father stayed to take care of the two already landed. Flapsy made a thousand difficulties, but at length yielded to her mother's persuasions, and flew safely down. Pecksy, without the least hesi tation, accompanied her, and, by exactly following the directions given, found the task much easier than she expected.

As soon as they had a little recovered from the fatigue and fright of their first essay at flying, they began to look around them with astonishment. Every object on which they turned their eyes excited their curiosity and wonder. They were no longer confined to a little nest, built in a small hole, but were now at full liberty in the open air. The orchard itself appeared to them a world. For some time each remained silent, gazing around, first at one thing, then at another; at length Flapsy cried out, "What a charming place the world is, I had no conception that it was half so big!"

"And do you suppose, then, my dear," replied the mother, "that you now behold the whole of the world? I have seen but a small portion of it myself, and yet have flown over so large a space that what is at present within our view appears to me a little inconsider able spot; I have conversed with several foreign birds, who informed me that the countries they came from were so distant that they are many days on their journey hither, though they flew the nearest way, and scarcely allowed themselves any resting time."

"Come," said the father, "let us proceed to business, we did not leave the nest merely to look about us. You are now, my young ones, safely landed on the ground, let me instruct you what you are to do on it. Every living creature that comes into the world has some thing allotted him to perform, therefore he should not stand an idle spectator of what others are doing. We small birds have a very easy task, in comparison of many animals. I have had an oppor tunity of observing, being only required to seek food for ourselves, build nests, and provide for our young ones till they are able to procure their own livelihood. We have, indeed, enemies to dread; hawks and other birds of prey will catch us up if we are not upon our guard; but the worst foes we have are those of the human race, though even among them we Redbreasts have a better chance than many other birds, on account of a charitable action which two of our species are said to have performed towards a little boy and girl who were lost in a wood where they were starved to death. The Redbreasts, I mean, saw the affectionate pair, hand in hand, stretched on the cold ground, and would have fed them had they been capable of receiving nourishment; but, finding the poor babes quite dead, and being unable to bury them, they resolved to cover them with leaves. This was an arduous task, but many a Redbreast has since shared the reward of it, and I believe that those who do good to others always meet with a recompense some way or other. But I declare I am doing the very thing I was reproving you forchattering away when I should be minding business. Come, hop after me, and we shall soon find something worth having. Fear nothing, for you are now in a place of security; there is no hawk near, and I have never seen any of the human race enter this orchard but the monsters who paid you visits in the nest, and others equally inoffensive."

The father then hopped away, followed by Robin and Dicky, while his mate conducted the female part of the family. The parents instructed their young ones in what manner to seek for food, and they proved very successful, for there were many insects just at hand.

* Alluding to the ballad of the "Children in the Wood."

THE real secret of a child's book consists not merely in its being less dry and less difficult but more rich in interest, more true to nature, more exquisite in art, more abundant in every quality that replies to childhood's keener and fresher perceptions. Such being the case, the best of juvenile reading wil be found in libraries belonging to their elders, while the best of juvenile writing will no longer fail to delight those who are no longer children. "Robinson Crusoe," the standing favourite for above a century, was not written for children; and Sir Walter Scott's "Tales of a Grandfather," addressed solely to them, are the pleasure and profit of every age from childhood upwards. The idea of a book being too old for a child is one which rests upon very false foundations.-Quarterly Review.

And its valleys and hills by our children be trod.
Can the language of strangers, in accents unknown,
Send a thrill to our bosom like that of our own?
The face may be fair, and the smile may be bland,
But it breathes not the tones of our dear native land.
There's no spot on earth

Like the land of our birth,
Where heroes keep guard o'er the altar and hearth.
How sweet is the language which taught us to blend
The dear name of parent, of husband, and friend;
Which taught us to lisp on our mother's soft breast
The ballads she sung as she rocked us to rest.
May the blessings of God

Ever hallow the sod,

And its valleys and hills by our children be trod.

THE THREE ENCHANTED PRINCES. ONCE upon a time there was a King of Green-Bank who had three daughters. They were perfect jewels, with whom three sons of the King of Fair-Meadow were desperately in love; but these princes having been changed by a fairy spell into animals, the King of Green-Bank disdained to give them his daughters to wife; whereupon the first prince, who was a beautiful Falcon, called together all the birds to a council; and there came the chaffinches, tomtits, woodpeckers, flycatchers, jays, blackbirds, cuckoos, thrushes, and others of the feathered race.

And when they had all answered to his summons he ordered them to destroy all the blossoms on the trees of Green-Bank, so that not a flower or leaf should remain.

The second prince, who was a Stag, summoning all the goats, rabbits, hares, hedgehogs, and other animals of that country, laid waste all the corn fields, so that there was not a single blade of grass or corn left.

The third prince, who was a Dolphin, consulting together with a hundred monsters of the deep, caused such a tempest to arise upon the coast that not a boat escaped.

Now, when the King saw that matters were going from bad to worse, and that he could not remedy the mischief which these three wild lovers were causing, he resolved to get out of his trouble, and made up his mind to give them his daughters to wife; and, thereupon, without waiting either for feasts or songs, they carried their brides off and out of the kingdom.

Granzolla, the queen, gave each of her daughters a ring at parting, one exactly like the other, telling them that if they happened to be separated, and after awhile to meet again, or to see any of their kinsfolk, they would recognise each other by means of these rings. So, taking their leave, the daughters departed; and the Falcon carried Fabiella, who was the eldest of the sisters, to the top of a mountain, which was so high that, passing the confines of the clouds, it rose with a dry head to a region where it never rains; and there, leading her to a most beautiful palace, she lived like a queen. The Stag carried Vasta, the second sister, into a wood, which was so thick that the Shades, when summoned by Night, could not find their way out to escort her. There he placed her, as befitted her rank, in a wonderfully splendid house with a garden.

The Dolphin swam with Rita, the third sister, on his back into the middle of the sea, where, upon a large rock, he showed her a mansion in which three crowned kings might have lived.

Meanwhile Granzolla, the queen, gave birth to a fine little boy, whom they named Tittone. And when he was fifteen years old, hearing his mother lamenting continually that she never heard any tidings of her three daughters, who were married to three animals, he took it into his head to travel through the world, until he should obtain some news of them. So after begging and entreating his father and mother for a long time, they granted him permission, bidding him take attendants and everything needful and befitting a prince for a journey; and the queen also gave him another ring similar to those she had given to her daughters.

Tittone went his way, and left no corner of Italy, not a nook in France, nor any part of Spain unsearched; then he passed through England, and traversed Slavonia, and visited Poland, and in short travelled both east and west. At length, leaving all his servants, some at the taverns and some at the hospitals, he set out without a farthing in his pocket, and came to the top of the mountain where dwelt the Falcon and Fabiella. And as he stood there, beside

himself with amazement, contemplating the beauty of the palace, the corner-stones of which were of porphyry, the walls of alabaster, the windows of gold and the tiles of silver, his sister observed him; and ordering him to be called, she demanded who he was, whence he came, and what chance had brought him to that country.

When Tittone told her his country, his father and mother, and his name, Fabiella knew him to be her brother, and the more when she compared the ring upon his finger with that which her mother had given her; and embracing him with great joy, she concealed him, fearing that her husband would be angry when he returned home.

As soon as the Falcon came home Fabiella began to tell him that a great longing had come over her to see her parents; and the Falcon answered, "Let the wish pass, wife; for that cannot be, unless the humour takes me."

"Let us at least," said Fabiella, "send to fetch one of my kinsfolk, to keep me company."

"And pray, who will come so far to see you ?" replied the Falcon. "Nay, but if any one should come," added Fabiella, “would you be displeased ?"

"Why should I be displeased?" said the Falcon; "it would be enough that he were one of your kinsfolk, to make me take him to my heart."

When Fabiella heard this she took courage, and calling to her brother to come forth, she presented him to the Falcon, who exclaimed, "Five and five make ten; love passes through the glove, and water through the boot. A hearty welcome to you! you are master in this house; command, and do just as you like." Then he gave orders that Tittone should be served and treated with the same honour as himself.

Now when Tittone had stayed a fortnight on the mountain it came into his head to go forth and seek his other sisters; so taking leave of Fabiella and his brother-in-law, the Falcon gave him one of his feathers, saying, "Take this and prize it, my dear Tittone; for you may one day be in trouble, and you will then esteem it a treasure. Enough-take good care of it, and if ever you meet with any mishap throw it on the ground and say, 'Come hither, come hither!' and you shall have cause to thank me."

Tittone wrapped the feather up in a sheet of paper, and putting it in his pocket, after a thousand ceremonies departed. And travelling on and on a very long way, he arrived at last at the wood where the Stag lived with Vasta; and going, half-dead with hunger, into the garden to pluck some fruit, his sister saw him, and recognised him in the same manner as Fabiella had done. Then she presented Tittone to her husband, who received him with the greatest friendship, and treated him truly like a prince.

At the end of a fortnight, when Tittone wished to depart, and go in search of his other sister, the Stag gave him one of his hairs, repeating the same words as the Falcon had spoken about the feather. And setting forth, with a bagful of crown-pieces which the Falcon had given him, and as many more which the Stag gave him, he walked on and on until he came to the end of the earth, where, being stopped by the sea, and unable to walk any further, he took ship, intending to seek through all the islands for tidings of his sister.

So, setting sail, he went about and about, until at length he was carried to an island, where lived the Dolphin with Rita. And no sooner had he landed than his sister saw him and recognised him in the same manner as the others had done, and he was received by her husband with all possible affection.

Now, after a while, Tittone wished to set out again, to go and visit his father and mother, whom he had not seen for so long a time. So the Dolphin gave him one of his scales, telling him the same as the others had; and Tittone, mounting a horse, set out on his travels. But he had hardly proceeded half a mile from the seashore, when entering a wood-the abode of Fear and the Shades, where a continual fair of darkness and terror was kept up-he found a great tower in the middle of a lake, whose waters were kissing the feet of the trees, and entreating them not to let the Sun witness their pranks.

At a window in the tower Tittone saw a most beautiful maiden, sitting at the feet of a hideous dragon, who was asleep. When the damsel saw Tittone, she said in a low and piteous voice, "O, noble youth, sent perchance by Heaven to comfort me in my miseries in this place, where the face of a Christian is never seen, release me from the power of this tyrannical serpent, who has carried me off from my father, the King of Bright-Valley, and shut me up in this frightful tower, where I must die a miserable death."

66

Alas, my beauteous lady," replied Tittone, "what can I do to serve thee? who can pass this lake? who can climb this tower? who can approach yon horrid dragon, that carries terror in his look, sows fear, and causes dismay to spring up? But softly: wait a minute, and we'll find a way with another's help to drive this serpent away. Step by step-the more haste the worst speed: we shall

soon see whether 'tis egg or wind." And so saying he threw the feather, the hair, and the scale, which his brothers-in-law had given him, on the ground, exclaiming, "Come hither, come hither!" And falling on the earth like drops of summer rain, which makes the frogs spring up, suddenly there appeared the Falcon, the Stag and the Dolphin, who cried out all together, "Behold us here! what are your commands ?"

When Tittone saw this, he said with great joy, "I wish for nothing but to release this poor dainsel from the claws of yon dragon, to take her away from this tower, to lay it all in ruins, and to carry this beautiful lady home with me as my wife."

"Hush!" answered the Falcon; "for the bean springs up where you least expect it. We'll soon make him dance upon a sixpence, and take good care that he shall have little ground enough."

"Let us lose no time," said the Stag: "troubles and macaroni are swallowed hot."

So the Falcon summoned a large flock of griffins, who flying to the window of the tower carried off the damsel, bearing her over the lake to where Tittone was standing with his three brothers-in-law: and if from afar off she appeared a moon, believe me when near she looked truly like a sun, she was so beautiful.

Whilst Tittone was embracing her, and telling her how he loved her, the dragon awoke; and rushing out of the window, he came swimming across the lake to devour Tittone. But the Stag instantly called up a squadron of lions, tigers, panthers, bears, and wild-cats, who, falling upon the dragon, tore him in pieces with their claws.

Then Tittone, wishing to depart, the Dolphin said, "I likewise desire to do something to serve you." And in order that no trace should remain of that frightful and accursed place, he made the sea rise so high that, overflowing its bounds, it attacked the tower furiously and overthrew it to its foundations.

When Tittone saw these things, he thanked the animals in the best manner he could, telling the damsel at the same time that she ought to do so too, as it was by their aid she had escaped from peril.

But the animals answered, "Nay, we ought rather to thank this beauteous lady, since she is the means of restoring us to our proper shapes; for a spell was laid upon us at our births, caused by our mothers having offended a fairy, and we were compelled to remain in the form of animals, until we should have freed the daughter of a king from some great trouble.

"And now behold the time is arrived which we have longed for; and we already feel new spirit in our breasts, new blood in our veins." So saying, they were changed into three handsome youths, and one after another they embraced their brother-in-law, and shook hands with the lady, who was in an ecstasy of joy.

When Tittone saw this, he was on the point of fainting away; and heaving a deep sigh he said, "O heavens! why have not my mother and father a share in this happiness? They would be out of their wits with joy were they to see such graceful and handsome sons-in-law before their eyes."

"Nay," answered the princes, "'tis not yet night; the shame at seeing ourselves so transformed obliged us to flee from the sight of men; but now that, thank heaven! we can appear in the world again, we will all go and live with our wives under one roof, and spend our lives merrily. Let us therefore set out instantly, and before the sun to-morrow morning unpacks the bales of his rays at the custom-house of the East, our wives shall be with you."

So saying, in order that they might not have to go on foot,-for there was only an old broken-down mare which Tittone had brought -the brothers caused a most beautiful coach to appear, drawn by six lions, in which they all five seated themselves; and having travelled the whole day, they came in the evening to a tavern, where, whilst the supper was being prepared, they passed the time in reading all the proofs of men's ignorance which were scribbled upon the walls.

At length, when all had eaten their fill and retired to rest, the three youths, feigning to go to bed, went out and walked about the whole night long, till in the morning, when the stars, like bashful maidens, retire from the gaze of the sun, they found themselves in the same inn with their wives; whereupon there was a great embracing, and a joy beyond the beyonds.

Then they all eight seated themselves in the same coach, and after a long journey arrived at Green-Bank, where they were received with incredible affection by the king and queen, who had not only regained the capital of four children, whom they had considered lost, but likewise the interest of three sons-in-law and a daughter-inlaw, who were verily four columns of the temple of beauty.

And when the news of the adventures of their children was brought to the kings of Fair-Meadow and Bright-Valley, they both came to the feasts which were made, adding the rich ingredient of joy to the porridge of their satisfaction, and receiving a full recompense for all their past misfortunes; for

"One hour of joy dispels the cares
And sufferings of a thousand years."

THE LESSON OF THE LEAVES.

GLANCING in the sunlight,
Dancing in the breeze,
See the new-born leaflets
On the summer trees;
Joying in existence
Whisp'ringly they play,
Toying with each other
Through the golden day,
And when evening's eyelids
Close upon the hill,
Casting loving glances
On the answering rill ;-
Thus they dance and flutter
All the summer through,
Light and gay, and gladsome,
Leaflets green and new.

"Life is all before us-life is full of glee !" Is the joyous chorus from every leafy tree.

Hanging on the branches,
Drooping in the shade,
Mark the Autumn leaflets
As they pine and fade;
Rustling, as the storm-blast
Sweeps across the moor,
Driven by the whirlwind
To the cotter's door,
Dark, and thick, and heavy
With the dust of Time,
Weary of existence,
List their Wintry chime,
As with mournful cadence
It rings in human ears,
A lesson fraught with wisdom

For us in coming years.

This the parting chorus, "Leaves, our course is run, Death is now before us-but our work is done."

his head thoughtfully he did not observe that he took the wrong BUT the Child went away from the place; and as he hung down welcome him, nor hear how the old birds from the boughs, and the path, nor see how the flowers on either side bowed their heads to little Prince." And he went on and on, farther and farther, into young from the nests, cried aloud to him, "God bless thee, our dear the deep wood; and he thought over the foolish and heartless talk of the two selfish chatterers, and could not comprehend its meaning. He tried to forget it, but could not. And the more he pondered the more it seemed to him as if a malignant spider had spun her web around him, and as if his eyes were weary with trying to look through it.

beeches lovingly entwined their arms. He looked into the water, and And, presently, he came to a still water, above which young his eyes were rivetted to it as if by enchantment. He could not stir, but stood and gazed in the soft, placid mirror, from the bosom of which the tender green foliage, with the deep blue heavens