4. Be content! The robin chirps as gayly as the gorgeous bird of Paradise. Less gaudy is his plumage, less splendid his surroundings. Yet no joy that cheers the Eastern beauty, but comes upon his barren hills to bless the nest that robin builds. His flight's as strong, his note as gay; and in his humble home the light of happiness shines all as bright, because no cloud of envy dims it.

5. Let us, then, labor and be strong, in the best use of that we have; wasting no golden hours in idle wishes for things that burden those who own them, and could not bless us if we had them, as the gifts already bestowed by a Wisdom that never errs. Being content, the poorest man is rich: while he who counts his millions, hath little joy if he be otherwise.

7. LAD AND HIS NEIGHBOR.

HAD," said William Lad, the apostle of peace, “a fine field of grain, growing upon an out-farm, at some distance from the homestead. Whenever I rode by I saw my neighbor Pulcifer's sheep in the lot, destroying my hopes of a harvest. These sheep were of the gaunt, long-legged kind, active as spaniels; they would spring over the highest ferce, and no partition wall could keep them out.

2. "I complained to neighbor Pulcifer about them, sent him frequent messages, but all without avail. Perhaps they would be kept out for a day or two; but the legs of his sheep were lõng, and my grain more tempting than the adjoining pasture. I rode by again-the sheep were still there; I became angry, and told my men to set the dogs on them; and, if that would not do, I would pay them, if they would shoot the sheep.

3. "I rode away much agitated; for I was not so much of a peace man then as I am now, and I felt literally full of fight.

'Gorgeous, splendid; having bright colors.-'Gaud' y, showy.'Apostle (a pos' sl), a person sent; one engaged in spreading any doc trine or belief.-'Home' stead, the place of a mansion-house.--* Gåunt, tall and thin slender; lean.- Lit' er al ly, strictly; exactly to the letter.

I asked myself,

All at once, a light flashed in upon me. 'Would it not be well for you to try in your own conduct the peace principle you are teaching to others? I thought it all over, and settled down in my mind as to the best course to be pursued. The next day I rode over to see neighbor Pulcifer I found him chopping wood at his door.

4. "Good morning, neighbor! No answer. 'Good morr ing!' I repeated. He gave a kind of grunt without looking up. 'I came,' continued I, 'to see about the sheep.' At this, he threw down his axe and exclaimed, in an angry manner: 'Now aren't you a pretty' neighbor, to tell your men to kill my sheep? I heard of it; a rich man, like you, to shoot a poor man's sheep!'

5. "I was wrong, neighbor,' said I; but it won't do to let your sheep eat up all that grain; so I came over to say, that I would take your sheep to my homestead pasture, and put them in with mine; and in the fall you shall take them back, and if any one is missing, you may take your pick out of my whōle flock.'

take me.

6. "Pulcifer looked confounded; he did not know how to At last he stammered out: 'Now, 'Squire, are you in earnest ?' 'Certainly I am,' I answered; 'it is better for me to feed your sheep in my pasture on grass, than to feed them here on grain; and I see the fence can't keep them out.'

7. "After a moment's silence, 'The sheep shan't trouble you any more,' exclaimed Pulcifer. 'I will fetter them all. But I'll let you know that, when any man talks of shooting, I can shoot, too; and when they are kind and neighborly, I can be kind, too.'

8. "The sheep never again trespassed on my lot. And, my friends," he would continue, addressing the audience, "remember that when you talk of injuring your neighbors, they will talk of injuring you. When nations threaten to fight, other nations will be ready, too. Love will begět love; a wish to be at peace will keep you in peace. You can overcome evil with good. There is no cther way."

· Pretty (prit' ty).—Três' passed, passed over the boundary line of another's land

8. THE BOY.

1. THERE'S something in a noble boy,
A brave, free-hearted, careless one,
With his uncheck'd, unbidden joy,
His dread of books and love of fun,
And in his clear and ready smile,
Unshaded by a thought of guile,

And unrepress'd' by sadness,—

Which brings me to my childhood back,
As if I trod its very track,

And felt its very gladness.

2. And yet, it is not in his play,

When every trace of thought is lost,
And not when you would call him gay,

That his bright presence thrills me most,

His shout may ring upon the hill,

His voice be echo'd in the hall,
His merry laugh like music trill,
And I in sadness hear it all,-
For, like the wrinkles on my brow,
I scarcely notice such things now,—

3. But when, amid the earnest game,
He stops, as if he music heard,
And, heedless of his shouted name
As of the cărol' of a bird,
Stands gazing on the empty air,
As if some dream were passing there;-
'Tis then that on his face I look-
His beautiful but thoughtful face-

And, like a long-forgotten book,
Its sweet familiar meanings trace,—

4. Remembering a thousand things
Which passed me on those golden wings,
Which time has fetter'd now;

'Un re pressed', not subdued.—3 Cår' ol, a song of joy

Things that came o'er me with a thrill,
And left me silent, sad, and still,

And threw upon my brow

A holier and a gentler cast,

That was too innocent to last.

5 'Tis strange how thoughts upon a chi.d
Will, like a presence, sometimes press,
And when his pulse is beating wild,
And life itself is in excess'-

When foot and hand, and ear and eye,
Are all with ardor straining high-
How in his heart will spring
A feeling whose mysterious thrall3
Is stronger, sweeter far than all!
And on its silent wing,

How, with the clouds, he'll float away,
As wandering and as lost as they!

N. P. WILLIS.

A

9. PETER OF CORTONA.

6

LITTLE shepherd, about twelve years old, one day abandoned the flock which had been committed to his care, and set off for Florence," where he knew no one but a lad of his own age, almost as poor as himself, and who, like him, had left the village of Cortona, to become a scullion' in the kitchen of the Cardinal Sachetti. A far nobler object conducted Peter to Florence. He knew that that city contained an academy of fine arts, a school of painting, and the little shepherd was ambitious of being a painter.

2. After searching throughout the city, he stopped at the gate of the Cardinal's palace, and inhaling from a distance the odor of the kitchen, he waited patiently until his lordship was served,

Ex cèss', more than what is necessary; overflowing.---2 Mys tẻ' rious, secret; not easily understood —3 Thrall, bondage slavery.-. A bån' doned, forsook.- Flor' ence, a noted city in Italy, capital of the Grand Duchy of Tuscanv.-"Qor tò' na, a town of Tuscany.-' Scull · ion, the lowest order of servants.

in order to speak to his friend Thomas. He had to wait a long time; but at last, the much wished-for moment of the interview arrived.

3. "Here you are, Peter; and what are you going to do in Florence?" "I ain going to learn painting."

4. "You had much better follow my example, and learn to cook; at all events, you are sure of not having to die of hunger." "You eat, then, as much as you like here?" said Peter.

5. "I believe you,” replied the little scullion; "and might give myself a fit of indigestion' every day, if I were so disposed." In that case," replied Peter, "I see we may manage věry well. As you have too much, and I have not enough, you can find food, and I shall find appetite, and we shall get on very well together."

6. "Yes, that will do," said Thomas. "Very well, then, let it do at once," resumed Peter; "for as I have not dined, we may as well begin from this very moment the arrangement I had come to propose to you."

7. Thomas made him creep up secretly into the garret where he slept, offered him half his bed, told him to wait awhile, and that he would soon return with some of the remains of the Cardinal's dinner. We need not say whether the repast was a měrry one. Thomas had an excellent heart, and Peter an

excellent appetite.

8. "Now, then, as you are well lodged, and well fed, the only question is, how are you going to work?" "Like every one else who draws with pencils and paper."

9. "But," urged Thomas, "you have money, then, to buy pencils and paper?" "I! I have no money at all; but I said to myself, as I came along, Thomas, who is a scullion in the Cardinal's kitchen, can not fail to have money; and since he is rich, it is just the same as if I were so."

10. Thomas scratched his ear, and replied that, "so far as a few bones to pick were concerned, there was no want of those in the house; but as to money, he must wait at least three years longer, before he had any right to ask for wages."

'In di gès' tion, inability to digest food; want of due preparation in the stomach.