was assailed almost every day with laughter and ridicule. His cow-hide boots in particular were made matter for mirth. But he kept on cheerfully and bravely, day after day, never shunning observation, driving the widow's cow, and wearing his thick boots, contented in the thought that he was doing right, caring not for all the jeers and sneers that could be uttered. He never undertook to explain why he drove a cow; for he was not inclined to make a vaunt of his charitable motives, and, furthermore, in his heart he had no sympathy with the false pride that could look with ridicule on any useful employment. It was by mere accident that his course of kindness and self-denial was yesterday discovered by his teacher.

11. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I appeal to you if there was not true heroism in this boy's conduct. Nay, Master Hartley, do not slink out of sight behind the blackboard! You were not afraid of ridicule; you must not be afraid of praise. Come forth, come forth, Master Edward James Hartley, and let us see your honest face!"

12. As Hartley, with blushing cheeks, made his appearance, what a round of applause, in which the whole company joined, spoke the general approbation of his conduct! The ladies stood up on benches and waved their handkerchiefs. The old men wiped the gathering moisture from the corners of their eyes, and clapped their hands. Those clumsy boots on Hartley's feet seemed a prouder ornament than a crown would have been on his head. The medal was bestowed on him amid general acclamation.

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13. Let me tell a good thing of Jemson before I conclude. He was heartily ashamed of his habit of ill-natured raillery,* and, after we were dismissed, he went up, with the tears of a manly self-rebuke in his eyes, and tendered his hand to Hartley, making a handsome apology for his past insolence and ill manners. “Think no more of it, old fellow," said Hartley, with delightful cordiality; "let us all go and have a good ramble in the woods before we break up for vacation." The boys, one by one, followed Jemson's example; and then we set forth, with huzzas, into the woods. What a happy day it was ་

Osborne.

THE LADY WHO DISPUTED ON TRIFLES,

EI

1. ONE day when Griselda's husband had not returned home exactly at the appointed minute, she received him with a frown: "Dinner has been kept waiting for you this hour, my dear," she said. "I am very sorry for it," he replied; "but why did you wait, my dear? I am really very sorry. I am so late, but" (looking at his watch) "it is only half-past six by

me."

2. "It is seven by me." They presented their watches to each other; he in an apologetical, she in a reproachful attitude. 66 I rather think you are too fast, my dear," said the gen

tleman.

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3. "I am very sure you are too slow, my dear," said the lady. My watch never loses a minute in the four-and-twenty hours," said he. "Nor mine a second," said she.

4. "I have reason to believe I am right, my love," said the husband, mildly. — "Reason!" exclaimed the wife, astonished. "What reason can you possibly have to believe you are right, when I tell you I am morally certain you are wrong, my love?" "My only reason for doubting it is, that I set my watch by the sun to-day."

5. "The sun must be wrong, then," cried the lady, hastily. You need not laugh; for I know what I am saying — the variation, the declination, must be allowed for in computing it vith the clock. Now, you know perfectly well what I mean, hough you will not explain it for me, because you are conscious am in the right."

6. "Well, my dear, if you are conscious of it, that is sufficient; we will not dispute any more about such a trifle. Are they bringing up dinner?"

7. "If they know that you are come in; but I am sure I cannot tell whether they do or not. - Pray, my dear Mrs. Netleby," cried the lady, turning to a female friend, and still holding her watch in hand, "what o'clock is it by you? There is nobody in the world hates disputing about trifles so much as I

do; but I own I do love to convince people that I am in the right."

8. Mrs. Nettleby's watch had stopped. How provoking! Vexed at having no immediate means of convincing people that she was in the right, our heroine consoled herself by proceeding to criminate her husband, not in this particular instance, where he pleaded guilty, but upon the general charge of being always late for dinner, which he strenuously denied." *

*

9. One morning, not long after this little dispute, Griselda and her husband were present, while Emma was busy showing some poor children how to plait straw, for hats. "Next summer, my dear, when we are settled at home," said Mr. Bolingbroke to his lady, "I hope you will encourage some manufacture of this kind among the children of our tenants."

10. "I have no genius for teaching manufactures of this sort," replied Mrs. Bolingbroke, scornfully. Her husband urged the matter no further. A few minutes afterward, he drew out a straw from a bundle which one of the children held. "This is a fine straw," said he, carelessly.

11. Fine straw!" cried Mrs. Bolingbroke; o, that is very coarse. This,” continued she, pulling one from another bundle, "this is a fine straw, if you please."—"I think mine is the finer," said Mr. Bolingbroke.

12. "Then you must be blind, Mr. Bolingbroke,” cried the lady, eagerly comparing them." Well, my dear," said he, laughing, "we will not dispute about straws."

13. "No, indeed," said she; "but I observe, whenever you know you are in the wrong, Mr. Bolingbroke, you say, 'We will not dispute, my dear:' now, pray look at these straws, Mrs. Granby, you that have eyes, which is the finer?”

14. "I will draw lots," said Emma, taking one playfully from Mrs. Bolingbroke; "for it seems to me that there is little or no difference between them." "No difference? O, my dear Emma!" said Mrs. Bolingbroke. "My dear Griselda," cried her husband, taking the other straw from her, and blowing it away, indeed, it is not worth disputing about: this is too childish."

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15. "Childish?" repeated she, looking after the straw, as it floated down the wind; "I see nothing childish in being in the right your raising your voice in that manner never convinces me. Jupiter is always in the wrong, you know, when he has recourse to his thunder."

:

16. " Thunder, my dear Griselda, about a straw! Well, when women are determined to dispute, it is wonderful how ingenious they are in finding subjects. I give you joy, my dear, of having attained the perfection of the art; you can now literally dispute about straws." Miss Edgeworth

XIII.

ABANDONMENT OF THE AGED AMONG INDIANS.

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1. THE worst trait in the character of the North American Indians is the neglect shown towards the aged 5 and helpless. This is carried to such a degree, that on a march or a hunting excursion, it is a common practice for Indians to leave behind their nearest relations, if old and infirm, giving them a little food and water, and then abandoning them without ceremony to their fate. When thus forsaken by all that is dear to them, the fortitude of these old people does not forsake them, and their inflexible Indian courage sustains them against despondency. They regard themselves as entirely useless; and as the custom of the nation has long led them to anticipate this mode of death, they attempt not to remonstrate against the measure, which is, in fact, often the result of their own solicitation.

2. Catlin, one of the most zealous defenders of the Indian character, relates the following scene, of which he was an eyewitness in the year 1840: "We found that the Puncahs were packing up all their goods, and preparing to start for the prairies in pursuit of buffaloes, to dry meat for their winter's supplies. They took down their wigwams of skins to carry with them. My attention was directed by Major Sanford, the Indian agent, to one of the most miserable and helpless-looking objects I ever had seen in my life. a very aged and emaciated man

* Practise the Exercises under n, page 38.

of the tribe, who, he told me, was going to be exposed.'

The tribe were going where hunger and dire necessity obliged them to go; and this pitiable object, who had once been a chief, and a man of distinction in his tribe, but who was now too old to travel, being reduced to mere skin and bōne, was to be left to starve, or meet with such death as might fall to his lot, and his bones to be picked by the wolves!

3. "I lingered around this poor, forsaken134 patriarch, for hours before we started. I wept; and it was a relief to weep, looking at the old, abandoned veteran, whose eyes were dimmed, whose venerable locks were whitened by a hundred years, whose limbs were almost naked, and who trembled with cold as he sat by a small fire which his friends had left him, with a few sticks of wood within his reach, and a buffalo's skin stretched upon some crotches over his head. Such was to be his only dwelling, and such were the chances for his life, with only a few halfpicked bones within his reach, and a dish of water, without means of any kind to replenish his supply, or to move his body from that fatal locality!

4. “His friends and his children13 had all left him, and were preparing in a little time to be on their march. He had told them to leave him; he was old,' he said, and too feeble to march.' 'My children,' said he, 'our nation is poor, and it is necessary you should all go to the country where you can get meat. My eyes are dimmed, and my strength is no more; my days are nearly all numbered, and I am a burden to my children; I cannot go, and I wish to die. Keep your hearts stout, and think not of me; I am no longer good for anything.' In this way they had finished the ceremony of exposing him, and taken their final leave of him. I advanced to the old man, and was undoubtedly the last human being who held converse with him. I sat by the side of him, and though he could not distinctly see me, he shook me heartily by the hand, and smiled, evidently aware that I was a white man, and that I sympathized with his inevitable misfortune.

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5. "When passing by the site of the Puncah village a few months after this, in my canoe,57 I went ashore with ury men,