bending its head towards the water. When lo! it saw its own image in the clear surface, and instead of an ugly dark green duckling, it beheld in itself a stately swan.

It matters little being born in a duck yard, provided one is hatched from a swan's egg! He now blessed his former trials, which had taught him to value the delights that surrounded him. Meanwhile the larger swans gathered about him, and stroked him lovingly with their beaks.

Just then two little children came into the garden and ran towards the canal. They threw corn and bread down to the swans.

"Oh! there is a new one," exclaimed the youngest child, and both clapped their hands for joy. Then they ran away to call their parents. So more bread and cake were thrown into the water, and all said, "The new one is the most beautiful-so young and so graceful!" and, indeed, the old swans themselves seemed proud of their new companion.

Then the once ugly bird felt quite shy and abashed, and put his head under his wing; for though his heart was bursting for joy, still he was none the prouder. A good heart is never proud.

THE little dormouse is tawny red;

He makes against Winter a nice snug bed;

He makes his bed in a mossy bank,

Where the plants in the Summer grow tall and rank;
Away from the daylight, far under ground,

His sleep through the Winter is quiet and sound.
And when, all above him, it freezes and snows,
What is it to him, for he nought of it knows?
And till the cold time of the Winter is gone,
The little dormouse keeps sleeping on.

But at last, in the fresh breezy days of the Spring,
When the green leaves bud, and the merry birds sing,
And the dead of the Winter is over and past,
The little dormouse peeps out at last.

Out of his snug, quiet burrow he wends,

And looks all about for his neighbours and friends;
Then he says, as he sits at the foot of a larch,
"'Tis a beautiful day for the first day of March.
The violet is blowing, the blue sky is clear;
The lark is uprising-his carol I hear :

And in the green fields are the lamb and the foal:
I'm glad I'm not sleeping now down in my hole."

Then away he runs, in his merry mood,
Over the fields and into the wood,
To find any grain there may chance to be,
Or any small berry that hangs on the tree.

So, from early morning, 'till late at night,
Has the poor little creature its own delight,
Looking down to the earth, and up to the sky,
Thinking, "Oh, what a happy dormouse am I!"

83.-HISTORY OF LOUISE.

completely already

continue

confined

bleating shoulders

THERE was once a great slip of the land from the side of a mountain called the Rossberg, and among those who were buried in the rubbish was a little girl named Louise. How she came to be left alone in the house when the rest of the family escaped, or whether they were already from home and had not time to return for her, I do not know; but she was completely buried in the ruins of her father's cottage. But the earth and rocks had fallen upon it in such a manner as to cover it, but not entirely to crush it to pieces, so that the poor child, though buried alive, was not only unhurt, but had some little space to move about in.

Louise at first gave herself up for lost, expecting nothing less than to die of hunger, and she sat down and wept bitterly: she then said her prayers, and felt happier. After a few hours she heard the sound of the bleating of a goat, and she knew that it was one of her father's goats, which she had been in the habit of milking, which, like herself, had been buried alive, but without having received any hurt.

H

"Poor Pet," said she, "I am sure you want to be milked, and how glad I should be to drink your milk, but I cannot reach you in this darkness." The sound of bleating came from above, and after a great many trials she at length contrived to climb up to the spot where the goat was, and was glad to get a good draught of milk, nor was the goat less pleased, I dare say, to get milked.

Louise felt much better for this meal, and cheered herself with the hope that the poor goat would give her food enough to keep her from starving, till she might be dug out. The next day the bleating of the goat was very faint, and scarcely any milk could be drawn from it. She knew that the poor animal would not continue to give her milk unless it was supplied with food, yet it seemed as if she could not obtain any food for it. However, instead of giving way to her fears, she resolved to exert herself to try whether she could find any means of getting at some hay.

She thought it very likely that the place in which the goat was confined might be the stable, which, in the upset of the house, might have been thrown over the room in which she was; and, if so, she knew there was plenty of hay in the rack above the manger, but it was too high for the goat to reach. After many efforts to get at the hay, she was obliged to give that up; but at length she contrived to place herself so, that the goat, by resting its hind legs upon her shoulders, could reach the hay. You may imagine what joy she felt when she first heard the goat drawing it from the

She called

received no

up for them

rack and beginning to eat; for she knew that she had thus provided not only food for the poor goat, but a supply of milk for herself, so long as the hay lasted. After living several days in this solitude and darkness, she heard a knocking, and guessed that it was made by people digging in search of her. out to them as loud as she could, but answer, for the place was too much closed to hear her voice. This grieved her very much, for she feared that they might give over the search before they reached the spot where she was. Again, however, she heard a quantity of stones and earth fall near her, and thinking that an opening had been made, she was rushing forward to the spot where she had heard the noise, when it suddenly occurred to her that she might be crushed by the falling rubbish, and she prudently went back again. But she hallooed out as loud as she was able, and was at length so happy as to be answered by the voice of her father. In a short time he made his way to her; she fell into his arms, and was carried to her mother, who was overjoyed, as you may suppose, to find her alive; and you need not doubt that poor Pet, the goat, went with Louise, and was ever after tenderly cared for.

An idler is a watch that wants both hands,

As useless if it goes

as

if it

it stands.

COWPER..