Till a fool and used bad language to him, as he plied his whip on the poor horse so stoutly that it broke into a gallop, in spite of the bad road. But when Till came, towards night, to the edge of the town, there was the carrier on the road, with his waggon broken down. As Till came up, he called to him to come and help him to patch up his waggon again. Till was ready enough to do this, but he took care to let the carrier know that he thought he was himself to blame for his misfortune. "Did I not tell you," said Till, "that you must go slowly if you wanted to get to the town to-night? For the proverb says,-Too fast comes in last.""

Till was, another time, going with a neighbour for a long tramp. As often as they came to the top of a mountain, and had to go down hill, Till leaned sadly on his staff, and went along as if in trouble; but when they were at the foot of one and had to climb upwards, his face beamed with joy and he seemed pleased. "Why is it," asked his comrade, "that you climb the hills so cheerfully, and are so sad when you go down?” "When I am going down the hill," replied Till, “I am thinking, like a foolish fellow, on the height that is before us, which we shall soon have to climb, and that spoils my pleasure. But when I have to climb a hill, then I think of the valley that is to follow, and that gives me good heart."

If you wish not to be foolishly happy over good fortune, or foolishly cast down by trouble, be as wise as Simple Till, who thought on the bright when it was dark, and on the dark when it was bright.

68.-A WET SHEET AND A FLOWING SEA.

rustling

lightning

gallant

mariners

heaving heritage

A WET sheet and a flowing sea,

A wind that follows fast,

And fills the white and rustling sail,
And bends the gallant mast.

And bends the gallant mast, my boys,
While, like the eagle free,
Away the good ship flies, and leaves
Old England on the lee.

Oh! for a soft and gentle wind,

I heard a fair one cry;

But give to me the swelling breeze,
And white waves heaving high.
The white waves heaving high, my lads,
The good ship tight and free,-
The world of waters is our home,
And merry men are we.

There's tempest in yon hornèd moon,
And lightning in yon cloud;
And hark! the music, mariners,
The wind is piping loud.
The wind is piping loud, my boys,
The lightning flashes free;
The hollow oak our palace is,

Our heritage the sea.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

A FOX having by chance fallen into a well, all his springing and trying were of no use; he could not get out, and he almost gave himself up for lost. At last there came a goat, with his long beard, to the edge of the well, and peeped into the well. "What are you doing down there, friend fox?" cried he. "Eh!" answered the cunning fox, "What? Why because it's so nice and cool down here, and it is such fine water to drink. I came here both hot and thirsty, and cannot think of coming out again, it is so delightful. Would you not like to come down too ?-there's room enough for you as well."

The goat, who was himself very thirsty, was quite pleased to hear all this, and with a great spring leaped into the well.

"Is that the way you do, you fat fellow," said the fox. "You have splashed me all over, and made me soaking wet. You must help me to get out and dry myself. Wait a little-put your fore-feet against the wall till I clamber out over your back." The goat did as he was ordered, and in a flash the fox was on his back and up out of the well. "How shall I get out, now, when I am ready ?" asked the goat. "Wait till I come back," answered the fox, "then you will get up as easily over my back as I got up over yours." The goat waited a long time for the fox, but the fox never came back, and he would have been waiting yet, I believe, if a shepherd had not, by good fortune, come that way and pulled him out. When he had done so, the shepherd said to him, "You stupid goat, you deserved what you got for being so simple. But I will keep the cunning meanness of the fox in mind, and the next time I meet him he will feel the weight of my stick."

How pleasant the life of a bird must be,

Flitting about on each leafy tree;

In the leafy trees, so broad and tall,
Like a green and beautiful palace hall,
With its airy chambers light and boon,*
That open to sun, and stars, and moon,
That open out to the bright-blue sky,
And the frolicsome winds as they wander by.

They have left their nests in the forest bough,——
Those homes of delight they need not now;
And the young and the old they wander out,
And traverse the green world round about;
And hark! at the top of this leafy hall,
How, one to the other, they lovingly call;
"Come up, come up!" they seem to say,
"Where the topmost twigs in the breezes sway.'

"Come up, come up, for the world is fair

Where the merry

leaves dance in the summer air."
And the birds below give back the cry,
"We come, we come, to the branches high."
How pleasant the life of a bird must be,
Flitting about in the leafy tree;

And away through the air what joy to go,
And to look on the bright green earth below.

71.-THE GOLDEN SNUFF-BOX.

general
disturbed

officers

sausage

searched
easily

A GENERAL, while at table, showed some officers who

were at dinner with him a new golden snuff-box.

* Gay, cheerful.