With all these good qualities in iron, it is not surprising to see it used in a great variety of ways. It would take a day to write down the names of all the little things made wholly or partly of iron. We will only mention some of the larger things formed more or less of iron. The ploughshare, and almost every farming implement, the tools of every mechanic, and the weapons of war, are mostly made of iron. If we go on a journey by railway, we start from a station built largely of iron, we travel along an iron road, we are drawn by an iron horse, we sometimes pass under an iron bridge, and the carriage in which we sit runs along upon iron wheels. Our ships of war are plated with iron, and we may make long voyages in iron ships. We sleep on iron bedsteads, and we sit on iron chairs; we make our fires in iron grates and stoves, and cook our food in iron pots and pans. And even our schools and churches are sometimes built of iron.

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GEORGE STEPHENSON AND HIS DOG.

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GEORGE STEPHENSON was a great engineer. In early

days, however, he was a poor working-man unable to read or write. At the age of eighteen we find him in charge of an engine used in pumping water out of a coal-pit. Now he began to learn at a night-school; and so well did he persevere with his learning, and improve his leisure hours, that he became in two or three years a fair scholar.

George still found time to attend to his favourite animals, while working, by day at the engine, and by night at his books. He kept up his breed of rabbits, and even drove a small trade in them. Like his father, he used to tempt the robins to hop and fly about him at the engine-fire, by the bait of breadcrumbs saved from his dinner.

But his favourite pet was his dog-so sagacious that he performed the office of a servant, in almost daily carrying his dinner to him at the pit. The tin containing the meal was suspended from the dog's neck; and, thus laden, he proudly walked the road from Jolly's Close, where his master lodged, to Waterrow Pit, where he worked. The faithful creature turned neither to left nor right, nor minded for the time the barking of curs at his heels.

But his course was not always free from perils. One day the big strange dog of a passing butcher espied the engine-man's messenger, ran after him, and fell upon him with the tin about his neck. There was a terrible tussle and worrying between the dogs,

which lasted for a brief while; but, shortly after, the dog's master saw his faithful servant approaching, bleeding but triumphant. The tin can was still round his neck, but the dinner had tumbled out in the struggle. Though George went without his dinner that day, when an account of the combat came to his ears he was prouder of his dog than ever.

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TO A BEE.

THOU wert out betimes, thou busy, busy bee!

When abroad I took my early way,
Before the cow from her resting-place

Had risen up, and left her trace

On the meadow with dew so grey,

I saw thee, thou busy, busy bee!

Thou wert alive, thou busy, busy bee!

When the crowd in their sleep were dead;

Thou wert abroad in the freshest hour,

When the sweetest odour comes from the flower;
Man will not learn to leave his bed,

And be wise and copy thee, thou busy, busy bee!

TIN.

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TIN is used in making many things to be seen in a good kitchen. Yet it is not unlikely that you have never seen a piece of solid tin; for what are called tin saucepans and kettles are made of sheet-iron with only a coating of tin. What we commonly call tin is really tin-plate, made by dipping sheet-iron into melted tin. The tin-smith would not be so ready to throw away his clippings and shavings, if they were really of tin; for tin is very valuable.

It is found chiefly in Cornwall. The working of the tin and copper mines is the chief occupation of the Cornish. Tin-ore is found in veins, from which branch off smaller veins like twigs from the boughs of a tree, until they become as fine as threads. Many of the tin-mines in Cornwall are near the coast; and in some places the miners have followed the veins under the bed of the sea. In stormy weather the roar of the waves overhead sounds like mighty thunder, and the water sometimes streams through the roof and threatens to drown the miners.

The ore is got out from the rock by means of gunpowder. A hole is bored in the rock and filled with

powder. A fuse is then laid down, with one end touching the gunpowder, and the other end on fire. The fuse is made of something that burns slowly; so before the fire has travelled to the powder, the miners have retired to a safe place. They have to keep under cover until they hear a sound like thunder. When the explosion takes place the rock is burst open, and many pieces of the ore are shot out with great force. The work of the miner is attended with great toil and danger.

Tin, however, is well worth a little risk and hard work. We should be much at a loss without tin to make proper cooking utensils. It is one of the cleanest metals, and will not rust from damp. It is on this account much used for coating other metals. Neither copper nor iron would make suitable pots for cooking, unless their inside were washed with tin. Tinned pails are lighter than those of wood, and are much sweeter and cleaner for carrying milk. Tin is also more pleasing to the eye than lead or iron. The dish-covers in a gentleman's kitchen often look as bright as a new shilling. A good servant will take a delight in polishing them, until they will almost serve as a looking-glass.

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