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Deev to enter his dominions; should he hear of our affording you an asylum, he would instantly slay us all, far less would he spare you." Haitim said in reply, "If it is our destiny to enjoy longer life, no one can slay us; and if you are afraid of the consequences, you can bind me hand and foot, and carry me as a captive into the presence of your king."

"What you propose," they rejoined, " is utterly absurd; you have already shared of our hospitality; do you imagine, then, that we can thus deliver you up to certain destruction ?"

"Be under no hesitation," replied Haitim," on account of any danger that threatens me, for it is my resolution to have an audience of Mahpari as soon as possible; therefore convey me thither at all risks."

The peris were sadly perplexed on hearing Haitim's mad purpose, and deliberated among themselves what was best to be done with him. At length they resolved to detain him prisoner, and in the mean time despatch a messenger to learn the king's pleasure regarding him, and act accordingly.

One of the peris was sent to his majesty, with instructions thus to address him: "Sire, we have just seized on the sea-shore one of the human race, who is now our prisoner; if such be your royal pleasure, we are ready to conduct him into your august presence.' The messenger departed and in the course of seven days arrived at the peri court, and having received an audience, delivered his message to the king.

Mahpari ordered the man to be carefully conveyed into his presence, in order that he might himself examine him with regard to his journey to peri-land.

The messenger immediately returned, and stated that it was his majesty's pleasure to have Haitim brought into his presence. The peris without delay made preparations for conveying their prisoner

to court.

Meanwhile the report was rapidly spread through the country, that one of the human race was being conveyed to the capital.

One of his majesty's grandees, by name Masnapari, had a beautiful daughter called Husnapari, whose heart was restless and full of curiosity. This fair damsel said to her companions: "I hear that a man has somehow entered our king's dominions, and is now on his way to the capital; I wish it were possible for me to see what he is like they tell me that mankind are beautiful in countenance and graceful in form."

:

The attendants of Husnapari expressed their readiness to aid her in gratifying her wish, adding: “Fair lady, take your station by the way-side as the man passes, for after he is brought before the king it will be impossible to see him."

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But," said Husnapari, "how can I leave my father's house, and on what pretence shall I get out?"

After some consideration, her youthful companion suggested that she should ask leave of her parents to be allowed to dwell in the garden-villa for a few days.

Husnapari, delighted with the stratagem, went to her mother, and said, "My dear mother, give me your permission to go out and enjoy for a few days the fragrance of the fields and the delights of the garden."

66 "Receive your father's permission, my child," replied the mother, "and I shall be satisfied to let you go."

Husnapari was indulged with her father's consent, and attended by her fair and youthful companion she went to the gardens, where she was allowed to remain as usual for forty days.

On her way thither, she further consulted her friends as to the speediest means of seeing Haitim, the main object of her journey. They told her that those who guarded the sea of Kulzum were conducting the man from that quarter.

Husnapari and her companions, on hearing this, instead of proceeding to the garden, swiftly transported themselves to the shores of Kulzum, where they arrived in the space of three days, just at the moment when the peris were about to depart with Haitim.

Observing the numerous assemblage on the sea-shore, Husnapari halted with her train at some distance, and sent one of her attendants to inquire who they were. The messenger soon returned, and informed her that these were the guardians of the shores of Kulzum, and that they were about to convey the man to the king's presence.

"I saw this man," continued the messenger; "his face was beautiful, and his hair waved in graceful curls. His form was elegant as the moon when in her fourteenth night."

When Husnapari heard this description of Haitim's beauty and perfection, her desire to see him was greatly increased. She said to her peri train, "Alas! when am I to behold with my own eyes this lovely being ?"

"Let us watch them in the meantime from a distance," said her companions, "and, when they halt for the night, perhaps we may be able to carry off the man while his guards are asleep."

In a few days the peris arrived with their prisoner within a short distance of the garden of Husnapari, where they halted for the night. When half the night had elapsed, a select few of Husnapari's attendants, who were proficients in magic, approached the guards, and overpowering their eyelids with sleep, they also cast a spell upon the eyes of Haitim, so that he fell into a profound slumber, and carried him into the presence of their fair mistress.

The instant Husnapari beheld him her heart was deeply enamoured of his beauty. She lifted him in her arms, sleeping as he was, and carried him into her own garden.

When Haitim awoke, and looked around him, he was surprised at finding himself surrounded by peri damsels of surpassing beauty, in the midst of a garden green and fragrant as that of Iram. He addressed this fair company and said, "Tell me, who are you, and who has brought me hither?"

The fairest of the troop replied, "This is the garden of Masnapari, a peri of exalted rank, and I am his daughter. My name is Husnapari, or, the Beautiful Peri. When your arrival in our dominions became known to me, my ardent desire to behold your lovely form overcame my prudence, for which reason you were brought hither when asleep."

I

Haitim rejoined, "Now that you have gained your wish, may request that you will aid me in accomplishing my enterprise ?" "How can I serve you?" replied the beautiful peri. "The object of my coming into your country," said Haitim, "is to get possession of the Shahmuhra."

"Your journey is to little purpose," replied Husnapari, "for no living creature can get the Shahmuhra from the hands of the peri king; stay with me, then, for my heart has been yours since the moment I first saw you."

"I will comply with your request," said Haitim, "if you procure for me the Shahmuhra."

"I repeat to you," rejoined the peri, "that I cannot ; no creature can, by force or stratagem, get possession of the Shahmuhra, yet I know that you are destined to acquire this treasure. So far, you may rest satisfied."

Haitim, therefore, remained for a time in the garden with Husnapari, where both of them experienced uninterrupted happiness in the enjoyment of each other's society.

(To be continued.)

THE STORY WITHOUT AN END.

V.

Bur the Child stayed not long in the hut, all was so gloomy, close, and silent within; while abroad every thing seemed to smile, and to exult in the clear and unbounded space. Therefore he went out into the green wood, of which the dragon-fly had told him such pleasant stories. But he found every thing far more beautiful and lovely even than she had described it; for all about, wherever he went, the tender moss pressed his little feet, and the delicate grass embraced his knees, and the flowers kissed his hands, and even the branches stroked his cheeks with a kind and refreshing touch, and the tall trees threw their fragrant shade around him.

There was no end to his delight. The little birds warbled and sang, and fluttered and hopped about, and the delicate wood-flowers gave out their beauty and their odours; and every sweet sound took a sweet odour by the hand, and thus walked through the open door of the child's heart, and held a joyous nuptial dance therein. But the nightingale and the lily of the valley led the dance; for the nightingale sang of nought but love, and the lily breathed of nought but innocence, and he was the bridegroom and she was the bride. And the nightingale was never weary of repeating the same thing a hundred times over, for the spring of love which gushed from his heart was ever new; and the lily bowed her head bashfully, that no one might see her glowing heart. And yet the one lived so solely and entirely in the other that no one could see whether the notes of the nightingale were floating lilies, or the lilies visible notes, falling like dew-drops from the nightingale's throat.

The Child's heart was full of joy, even to the brim. He sat himself down, and he almost thought he should like to take root there, and live for ever among the sweet plants and flowers, and so become a true sharer in all their gentle pleasures. For he felt a deep delight in the still, secluded, twilight existence of the mosses and small herbs, which felt not the storm, nor the frost, nor the scorching sunbeam; but dwelt quietly among their many friends and neighbours, feasting in peace and good-fellowship on the dew and the cool shadows which the mighty trees shed upon them. To them it was a high festival when' sunbeam chanced to visit their lowly home; whilst the tops of the lofty trees could find joy and beauty only in the purple rays of morning or evening.

THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD.

Now ponder well, you parents dear,
The words which I shall write,
A doleful story you shall hear

In time brought forth to light:
A gentleman of good account

In Norfolk lived of late,
Whose wealth and riches did surmount
Most men of his estate.

Sore sick he was, and like to die,
No help that he could have;
His wife by him as sick did lie,

And both possess one grave.

No love between these two was lost,
Each was to other kind:

In love they lived, in love they died,
And left two babes behind:

The one a fine and pretty boy,

Not passing three years old;

The other a girl more young than he,
And made in Beauty's mould.

The father left his little son,
As plainly doth appear,

When he to perfect age should come,
Three hundred pounds a-year;
And to his little daughter Jane,
Five hundred pounds in gold,
To be paid down on marriage-day,
Which might not be controlled;
But if the children chanced to die,
Ere they to age should come,
Their uncle should possess their
wealth,

For so the will did run.

"Now, brother," said the dying man,
"Look on my children dear,
Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friend else have I here:

To God and you I do commend
My children night and day;
But little while, be sure, we have

Within this world to stay.

You must be father and mother both,

And uncle all in one;

God knows what will become of them

When I am dead and gone."

With that bespake their mother dear;
"Oh, brother kind!" quoth she,
"You are the man must bring our
babes

To wealth or misery.

And if you keep them carefully
Then God will you reward;
If otherwise you seem to deal,
God will your deeds regard."
With lips as cold as any stone

She kissed her children small,
"God bless you both, my children
dear;"

With that the tears did fall. These speeches then their brother spoke To the sick couple there"The keeping of your children dear, Sweet sister do not fear; God never prosper me or mine, Nor aught else that I have, If I do wrong your children dear When you are laid in grave!" Their parents being dead and gone, The children home he takes, And brings them both into his house, And much of them he makes.

A BALLAD.

He had not kept these pretty babes
A twelvemonth and a day,
When for their wealth he did devise
To make them both away.

He bargained with two ruffians rude,
Which were of furious mood,
That theys hould take the children young,
And slay them in the wood.

He told his wife and all he had,
He did the children send

To be brought up to London fair,
With one that was his friend.

Away then went these pretty babes,
Rejoicing at that tide,
Rejoicing with a merry mind

They should on cock-horse ride.
They prate and prattle pleasantly,
As they ride on the way,
To those who should their butchers be,
And work their lives' decay;

So that the pretty speech they had,
Made murderers' hearts relent,
And they had undertook the deed
Full sore they did repent.

Yet one of them more hard of heart,
Did vow to do his charge,
Because the wretch that hired him,
Had paid him very large.

The other would not agree thereto,
So here they fell at strife,
With one another they did fight
About the children's life;
And he that was of mildest mood
Did slay the other there,
Within an unfrequented wood,

While babes did quake for fear.
He took the children by the hand,
When tears stood in their eye,
And bade them kindly go with him
And look they did not cry.
And two long miles he led them on,
While they for food complain :
"Stay here," quoth he, "I'll bring
you bread

When I do come again."

These pretty babes, with hand in hand,

Went wandering up and down, But never more they saw the man Returning from the town.

Their pretty lips with blackberries Were all besmeared and dyed, And when they saw the darksome

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night,

They sat them down and cried. Thus wandered these two pretty

babes,

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His lands were barren made,
His cattle died within the field,
And nothing with him stayed.
And in the voyage to Portugal
Two of his sons did die;
And to conclude, himself was brought
To extreme misery.

He pawned and mortgaged all his land
Ere seven years came about:
And now at length this wicked act
Did by this means come out :
The fellow that did take in hand
These children for to kill,
Was for robbery judged to die,
As was God's blessed will;
Who did confess the very truth

The which is here expressed:
Their uncle died while he for debt
In prison long did rest.
All you that be executors made,
And overseers eke,

Of children that be fatherless,

And infants mild and meek, Take your example by this thing, And yield to each his right, Lest God, with such-like misery, Your wicked minds requite.

THE ROBINS.

MASTER JENKINS TYING THE CAT AND DOG TOGETHER.-MASTER FREDERICK PLAYING UPON THE HAND-ORGAN.

CHAPTER VI.

FTER Master and Miss Benson had been gratided with the sight of the robins' nest, they were returning to the house, conducted by their friend Joe, when they were met in the garden by their mamma, accompanied by Miss Lucy Jenkins and her brother Edward. The former was a fine girl about ten years old, the latter a robust, rude boy, turned of eleven. "We were coming to seek you, my dears," said Mrs. Benson to her children, "for I was fearful that the business you went upon would make you forget your young visitors."

"I cannot answer for Frederick," replied Miss Benson, "but indeed, mamma, I would not, on any account, have slighted my friends. How do you do, my dear Miss Jenkins?" said she; "I am happy to see you. Will you go with me into the play-room? I have got some very pretty new books. Frederick, have you nothing to show Master Jenkins ?" 66 O yes," said Frederick, "I have got a new ball, a new top, a new organ, and twenty pretty things; but I had rather go back and show him the robins."

"The robins!" said Master Jenkins, "what robins ?" "Why, our robins that have built in the ivy wall. You never saw anything so pretty in your life as the little ones."

"Oh! I can see birds enough at home," said Master Jenkins; "but why did you not take the nest? it would have been nice diversion to you to toss the young birds about. I have had a great many nests this year, and do believe I have an hundred eggs."

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An hun dred eggs! and how do you propose to hatch them ?" said Miss Harriet, who turned back on hearing him talk in this

manner.

"Hatch them, Miss Benson ?" said he; "who ever thinks of hatching bird's eggs?"

"Oh! then, you eat them," said Frederick, " or, perhaps, let your cook make puddings of them?"

"No, indeed," replied Master Jenkins, "I blow out the inside and then run a thread through them, and give them to Lucy to hang up amongst her curiosities; and very pretty they look, I assure you."

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And so," said Miss Harriet, "you had rather see a string of empty egg-shells than hear a sweet concert of birds singing in the trees? I admire your taste, truly!"

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Why, is there any harm in taking birds' eggs ?" said Miss Jenkins; "I never heard before that there was.' "My dear mamma," replied Miss Benson, "has taught me to think there is harm in every action which gives unnecessary pain to any living creature; and I own I have a very particular affection for birds."

"Well," said Miss Jenkins, "I have no notion of such affections, for my part. Sometimes, indeed, I try to rear those which Edward brings home, but they are teasing, troublesome things, and I am not lucky; to tell the truth, I do not concern myself much about them; if they live they live, and if they die they die. He has brought me three nests this day to plague me: I thought to have fed the birds before I came out, but being in a hurry to come to see you, I quite forgot it. Did you feed them, Edward ?" "Not I," said he; "I thought you would do it; it's enough for me to find the nests." "And have you actually left three nests of young birds at home without victuals ?" exclaimed Miss Harriet.

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"I did not think of them, but will feed them when I return," said Miss Jenkins.

"Oh!" cried Miss Benson, "I cannot bear the thoughts of what the poor little creatures must suffer."

"Well," said Master Jenkins "since you feel so much for them, I think, Miss Harriet, you will make the best nurse. What say you, Lucy, will you give the nests to Miss Benson ?"

"With all my heart," replied his sister; "and pray do not plague me with any more of them."

"I do not know that my mamma will let me accept them," said Miss Benson; "but if she will I shall be glad to do so."

Frederick inquired what birds they were, and Master Jenkins informed him there was a nest of linnets, a nest of sparrows, and another of blackbirds. Frederick was all impatience to see them, and Miss Harriet longed to have the little creatures in her possession, that she might rescue them from their deplorable condition, and lessen the evils of captivity which they now suffered.

Her mamma had left her with her young companion, that they might indulge themselves in innocent amusements without restraint; but the tender-hearted Harriet could not engage in any diversion till she had made intercession in behalf of the poor birds. She therefore begged Miss Jenkins would accompany her to her mamma, in order to ask permission to have the birds' nests. She accordingly went, and made her request known to Mrs. Benson, who readily consented; observing, that though she had a very great objection to her children having birds' nests, yet she could not deny her daughter on the present occasion.

Harriet, from an unwillingness to expose her friend, had said but little on the subject; but Mrs. Benson, having great discernment, concluded that she made the request from a merciful motive, and knowing that Miss Jenkins had no kind mamma to give her instructions, she thus addressed her:

"I perceive, my young friend, that Harriet is apprehensive that the birds will not meet with the same kind treatment from you which she is disposed to give them. I cannot think you have any cruelty in your nature, but, perhaps, you have accustomed yourself to consider birds only as playthings, without sense or feeling; to me, who am a great admirer of the beautiful little creatures, they appear in a very different light; and I have been an attentive observer of them, I assure you. Though they have not the gift of speech, like us, all kinds of birds have particular notes which answer, in some measure, the purpose of words among them, by means of which they can call to their young ones, express their love for them, their fears for their safety, their anger towards those who would hurt them, &c., from, which we may infer that it is cruel to rob birds of their young, deprive them of their liberty, or exclude them from the blessings suited to their natures, for which it is impossible for us to give them an equivalent. Besides, these creatures, insignificant as they appear in your estimation, were made by God as well as you. Have you not read, in the New Testament, my dear, that our Saviour said, 'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy ?' How, then, can you expect that God will send his blessings upon you if, instead of endeavouring to imitate Him in being merciful to the utmost of your power, you are wantonly cruel to innocent creatures which He designed for happiness?"

This admonition from Mrs. Benson, which Miss Jenkins did not expect, made her look very serious, and brought tears into her eyes, on which the good lady took her by the hand and kindly said, "I wish not to distress you, my dear, but merely to awaken the natural sentiments of your heart; reflect, at your leisure, on what I have taken the liberty of saying to you, and I am sure you will think me your friend. I knew your dear mamma, and can assure you she was remarkable for the tenderness of her disposition. But let me not detain you from your amusements; go to your own apartment, Harriet, and use your best endeavours to make your visitors happy. You cannot, this evening, fetch the birds, because when Miss Jenkins goes it will be too late for you to take so long a walk, as you must come back afterwards, and I make no doubt but that, to oblige you, she will feed them to night."

Miss Harriet and Miss Jenkins returned, and found Frederick diverting himself with the hand-organ, which had lately been presented by his god-papa; but Master Jenkins had laid hold of Miss Harriet's dog, and was searching his own pocket for a piece of string, that he might tie him and the cat together, to see, as he said, how nicely they would fight; and so fully was he bent on this cruel purpose, that it was with difficulty he could be prevailed on to relinquish it.

"Dear me," said he, "if ever I came into such a house in my life; there is no fun here. What would you have said to Harry Pritchard and me the other day, when we made the cats fly ?" "Made the cats fly!" said Frederick; "how was that ?" "Why," replied he, "we tied bladders to each side of their necks, and then flung them from the top of the house. There was an end of their purring and mewing for some time, I assure you, for they lay a long while struggling and gasping for breath, and if they had

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not had nine lives I think they must have died; but, at last, up they jumped, and away they ran scampering. Then out came little Jemmy, crying as if he had flown down himself, because we hurt the poor cats; he had a dog running after him, who, I suppose, meant to call us to task with his bow, wow! but we soon stopped his tongue, for we caught the gentleman and drove him before us into a narrow lane, and then ran hooting after him into the village; a number of boys joined us, and cried out, as we did, ' A mad dog! a mad dog!' On this, several people pursued him with cudgels and broomsticks, and at last he was shot by a man, but not dead; so others came and knocked him about the head till he expired."

"For shame! Master Jenkins," said Miss Harriet; "how can you talk in that extravagant manner? I cannot believe any young gentleman could bring his heart to such barbarities."

"Barbarities, indeed! why, have we not a right to do as we please to dogs and cats, or do you think they feel as we do? Fiddle-faddle of your nonsense, say I; come, you must hear the end of my story. When the dog was dead we carried him home to little Jemmy, who was ready to break his heart for the loss of him; so we did not like to stand hearing his whining, therefore left him and got a cock, whose legs we tied, and flung at him till he died. Then we set two others to fighting, and fine sport we had, for one was pecked till his breast was laid open, and the other was blinded, so we left them to make up their quarrel as they could."

"Stop! stop!" exclaimed Miss Harriet; "for pity's sake, stop! I can hear no more of your horrid stories, nor would I commit even one of those barbarities, which you boast of, for the world. Poor innocent creatures! what had they done to you to deserve such usage ?"

"I beg, Edward," said his sister, "that you will find some other way to entertain us, or I shall really tell Mrs. Benson of you."

"What are you growing tender-hearted all at once?" cried he. "I will tell you what I think when I go home," replied Miss Jenkins. As for poor Frederick, he could not restrain his tears, and Harriet's flowed also at the bare idea of the sufferings of the poor animals; but Master Jenkins was so accustomed to be guilty of those things without reflection, that there was no making any impression of tenderness upon his mind, and he only laughed at their concern, and wanted to tell a long story about an ox that had been driven by a cruel drover till he went mad, but Miss Benson and his sister stopped their ears.

At last little Frederick went crying to his mamma, and the young ladies retired to another apartment; so Master Jenkins amused himself with catching flies in the window, pulling the legs off some, and the wings from others, delighted with their contortions, which were occasioned by the agonies they endured.

Mrs. Benson had some visitors, which prevented her talking to this cruel boy, as she otherwise would have done, on hearing Frederick's account of him, but she determined to tell his papa, which she accordingly did some time after, when he returned home. Master Jenkins was now disturbed from his barbarous sport by being called to tea, and soon after that was over the servant came to fetch him and his sister. Miss Harriet earnestly entreated her friend Lucy to feed the birds properly till she should be allowed to fetch them, who promised to do so, for she was greatly affected with Mrs. Benson's discourse, and then entreated her brother to take leave that she might return home. With this he readily complied, as there were no further opportunities for cruelty.

After her little visitors were departed, Miss Harriet went into the drawing-room, and, having paid her compliments, she sat herself down that she might improve her mind by the conversation of the company. Her mamma perceived that she had been in tears, of which Frederick had before explained the cause. "I do not wonder, my love," said she, "that you should have been so affected with the relation of such horrid barbarities as that thoughtless boy has, by degrees, brought himself to practise, by way of amusement. However, do not suffer your mind to dwell on them, as the creatures on which he inflicted them are no longer objects of pity. It is wrong to grieve for the death of animals as we do for the loss of our friends, because they certainly are not of so much consequence to our happiness; and we are taught to think their sufferings end with their lives, as they are not religious beings; and therefore the killing them, even in the most barbarous manner, is not like murdering a human creature, who is, perhaps, unprepared to give an account of himself at the tribunal of Heaven."

"I have been," said a lady, who was present, "for a long time accustomed to consider animals as mere machines, actuated by the unerring hand of Providence to do those things which are necessary for the preservation of themselves and their offspring; but the sight of the Learned Pig, which has lately been shown in London, has deranged these ideas, and I know not what to think."

This led to a conversation on the instinct of animals, which young readers would not understand; it would, therefore, be useless to repeat it.

As soon as the company was gone-"Pray, mamma," said Miss Harriet, "what did the Learned Pig do? I had a great mind to ask Mrs. Franks, who said she saw it, but I was fearful she would think me impertinent."

"I commend your modesty, my dear," replied Mrs. Benson, " but would not have it lead you into such a degree of restraint as to prevent you satisfying that laudable curiosity, without which young persons must remain ignorant of many things very proper for them to be acquainted with. Mrs. Franks would, I am sure, have been far from thinking you impertinent. Those inquiries only are thought troublesome by which children interrupt conversation, and endeavour to attract attention to their own insignificant prattle, but all people of good sense and good nature delight in giving them useful infor

mation.

"In respect to the Learned Pig, I have heard things which are quite astonishing in a species of animals generally regarded as very stupid. The creature was shown for a sight in a room provided for the purpose, where a number of people assembled to view his performances. Two alphabets of large letters on card paper were placed on the floor; one of the company was then desired to propose a word which he wished the pig to spell. This the keeper repeated to the pig, which picked out every letter successively with his snout, and collected them together till the word was completed. He was then desired to tell the hour of the day, and one of the company held a watch to him; this he seemed with his little cunning eye to examine very attentively; and, having done so, he picked out figures for the hour and minute of the day. He exhibited a number of other tricks of the same nature, to the great diversion of the spectators.

"For my own part, though I was in London at the time he was shown, and heard continually of this wonderful pig from persons of my acquaintance, I never went to see him; for I am fully persuaded that great cruelty must have been used in teaching him things so foreign to his nature, and therefore would not give any encouragement to such a scheme."

"And do you think, mamma," said Harriet, "that the pig knew the letters, and could really spell words?"

"I think it possible, my dear, that the pig might be taught to know the letters at sight one from the other, and that his keeper had some private sign by which he directed him to each that were wanted; but that he had an idea of spelling I can never believe; nor are animals capable of attaining human sciences, because for these human faculties are requisite, and no art of man can change the nature of anything, though he may be able to improve that nature to a certain degree, or at least to call forth to view powers which would otherwise be hidden from us. As far as this can be done, consistently with our higher obligations, it may be an agreeable amusement, but will never answer any important purpose to mankind; and I would advise you, Harriet, never to give countenance to those people who show what they call learned animals, as you may assure yourself they practise great barbarities upon them, of which starving them almost to death is most likely among the number; and you may, with the money such a sight would cost you, procure for yourself a rational amusement, or even relieve some wretched creature from extreme distress. But, my dear, it is now time for you to retire to rest. I will, therefore, bid you good night." (To be continued.)

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SUMMER.

I'M coming along with a bounding pace,
To finish the work that Spring begun;
I've left them all with a brighter face,

The flowers in the vales through which I've run.

I have hung festoons from laburnum trees,
And clothed the lilac, the birch, and broom;
I've wakened the sound of humming bees,
And deck'd all nature in brighter bloom.
I've roused the laugh of the playful child,
And tired it out in the sunny noon;
All nature at my approach hath smil'd,
And I've made fond lovers seek the moon.
For this is my life, my glorious reign,

And I'll queen it well in my leafy bower;
All shall be bright in my rich domain;
I'm queen of the leaf, the bud, and the flower.
And I'll reign in triumph till Autumn time
Shall conquer my green and verdant pride;
Then I'll hie me to another clime,

Till I'm called again as a sunny bride.

THE FOUR SISTERS.

I HAVE four sisters beyond the sea,
Para-mara, dictum, domine;
And they did send four presents to me,
Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,
Para-mara, dictum, domine!

The first it was a bird without e'er a bone;
Para-mara, dictum, domine;

The second was a cherry without e'er a stone;
Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,
Para-mara, dictum, domine!

The third it was a blanket without e'er a thread,
Para-mara, dictum, domine;

The fourth it was a book which no man could read,
Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,
Para-mara, dictum, domine!

How can there be a bird without e'er a bone?

Para-mara, dictum, domine;

How can there be a cherry without e'er a stone?
Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,
Para-mara, dictum, domine!

How can there be a blanket without e'er a thread?
Para-mara, dictum, domine;

How can there be a book which no man can read?
Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,
Para-mara, dictum, domine!

When the bird's in the shell there is no bone;
Para-mara, dictum, domine;

When the cherry's in the bud there is no stone;
Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,
Para-mara, dictum, domine!

When the blanket's in the fleece there is no thread;
Para-mara, dictum, domine;

When the book's in the press no man can read;
Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum,
Para-mara, dictum, domine!

THE UGLY DUCKLING.

It was beautiful in the country: it was summer-time; the wheat was yellow, the oats were green, the hay was stacked up in the green meadows, and the stork paraded about on his long red legs, discoursing in Egyptian, which language he had learned from his mother. The fields and meadows were skirted by thick woods, and a deep lake lay in the midst of the woods.

Yes, it was, indeed, beautiful in the country! The sunshine fell warmly on an old mansion, surrounded by deep canals, and from the walls down to the water's edge there grew large burdock-leaves, so high that children could stand upright among them without being perceived. This place was as wild and unfrequented as the thickest part of the wood, and on that account a duck had chosen to make her nest there. She was sitting on her eggs; but the pleasure she had felt at first was now almost gone, because she had been there so long, and had so few visitors, for the other ducks preferred swimming on the canals to sitting among the burdock-leaves gossiping with her. At last the eggs cracked one after another: "Tchick, tchick!" All the eggs were alive, and one little head after another peered forth. 66 Quack, quack!" said the duck, and all got up as well as they could; they peeped about from under the green leaves, and as green is good for the eyes, their mother let them look as long as they pleased.

"How large the world is!" said the little ones, for they found their present situation very different to their former confined one, while yet in the egg-shells.

"Do you imagine this to be the whole of the world?" said the mother; "it extends far beyond the other side of the garden to the pastor's field; but I have never been there. Are you all here?" And then she got up. "No, not all: but the largest egg is still here. How long will this last? I am so weary of it!" And then she sat down

again.

"Well, and how are you getting on ?" asked an old duck, who had come to pay her a visit.

:

"This one egg keeps me so long," said the mother; "it will not break; but you should see the others. They are the prettiest little ducklings I have seen in all my days; they are all like their father the good-for-nothing fellow, he has not been to visit me once!" "Let me see the egg that will not break," said the old duck; "depend upon it, it is a turkey's egg. I was cheated in the same way

once myself, and I had such trouble with the young ones, for they were afraid of the water, and I could not get them into it. I called and scolded, but it was of no use. But let me see the egg-ah, yes! to be sure, that is a turkey's egg. Leave it, and teach the other little ones to swim."

"I will sit on it a little longer," said the duck. "I have been sitting so long, that I may as well spend the harvest here."

"It is no business of mine," said the old duck, and away she waddled.

The great egg burst at last. "Tchick! tchick!" said the little one, and out it tumbled-but, oh! how large and ugly it was! The duck looked at it. "That is a great strong creature," said she: "none of the others are at all like it; can it be a young turkey-cock? Well, we shall soon find out; it must go into the water, though I push it in myself."

The next day there was delightful weather, and the sun shone warmly upon all the green leaves, when mother duck and all her family went down to the canal; plump she went into the water. "Quack! quack !" cried she, and one duckling after another jumped in. The water closed over their heads, but all came up again, and swam together in the pleasantest manner; their legs moved without effort. All were there, even the ugly, grey one.

"No! it is not a turkey," said the old duck; only see how prettily it moves its legs! how upright it holds itself! it is my own child; it is also really very pretty, when one looks more closely at it. Quack! quack! now come with me, I will take you into the world, introduce you in the duck-yard; but keep close to me, or some one may tread on you; and beware of the cat."

So they came into the duck-yard. There was a horrid noise; two families were quarrelling about the remains of an eel, which in the end was secured by the cat.

"See, my children, such is the way of the world," said the mother duck, wiping her beak, for she, too, was fond of eels. "Now use

your legs," said she, “ keep together, and bow to the old duck you see yonder. She is the most distinguished of all the fowls present, and is of Spanish blood, which acounts for her dignified appearance and manners. And look, she has a red rag on her leg! that is considered extremely handsome, and is the greatest distinction a duck can have. Don't turn your feet inwards; a well-educated duckling always keeps his legs far apart, like his father and mother, just solook! Now bow your necks, and say 'quack.""

And they did as they were told. But the other ducks who were in the yard looked at them, and said aloud, "Only see, now we have another brood, as if there were not enough of us already; and, fie! how ugly that one is; we will not endure it ;" and immediately one of the ducks flew at him, and bit him in the neck.

"Leave him alone," said the mother, "he is doing no one any harm."

"Yes, but he is so large, and so strange-looking; and therefore he shall be teased."

Those are fine children that our good mother has," said the old duck with the red rag on her leg. "All are pretty except one, and that has not turned out well; I almost wish it could be hatched over again."

"That cannot be, please your highness," said the mother. "Certainly he is not handsome, but he is a very good child, and swims as well as the others, indeed rather better. I think he will grow like the others all in good time, and perhaps will look smaller. He stayed so long in the egg-shell, that is the cause of the difference:" and she scratched the Duckling's neck, and stroked his whole body. "Besides," added she, "he is a drake; I think he will be very strong, therefore it does not matter so much; he will fight his way through."

"The other ducks are very pretty," said the old Duck. "Pray make yourselves at home, and if you find an eel's head you can bring it to me."

And accordingly they made themselves at home.

But the poor little Duckling, who had come last out of its eggshell, and was so ugly, was bitten, pecked, and teased by both ducks and hens. "It is so large," said they all. And the turkey-cock, who had come into the world with spurs on, and therefore fancied he was an emperor, puffed himself up like a ship in full sail, and marched up to the Duckling quite red with passion. The poor little thing scarcely knew what to do; he was quite distressed, because he was so ugly, and because he was the jest of the poultry-yard.

So passed the first day, and afterwards matters grew worse and worse the poor Duckling was scorned by all. Even his brothers and sisters behaved unkindly, and were constantly saying, "The cat fetch thee, thou nasty creature!" The mother said, "Ah, if thou wer't only far away!" The ducks bit him, the hens pecked him, and the girl who fed the poultry kicked him. He ran over the hedge; the little birds in the bushes were terrified. "That is because I am so ugly," thought the Duckling, shutting his eyes, but he ran on.

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