6. "It is a little bird," said the dear little fellow; "or perhaps the bread sings when it bakes, as apples do." "No, indeed, little goosey!" said the baker's wife; "those are the crickets. They sing in the bakehouse because we are lighting the oven, and they like to see the fire." "Crickets!" said the child; "are they really crickets?" 66 "Yes, to be sure," said she good-humoredly. The child's face lighted up. Ma'am," said he, blushing at the boldness of his request, "I would like it very much if you would give me a cricket.” "A cricket!" said the baker's wife, smiling; "what in the world would you do with a cricket, my little friend? I would gladly give you all there are in the house, to get rid of them, they run about so." 66 7. "O ma'am, give me one, only one, if you please!" said the child, clasping his little thin hands under the big loaf. They say that crickets bring good luck into houses; and perhaps if we had one at home, mother, who has so much trouble, wouldn't cry any more." "Why does your poor mamma cry?" said my friend, who could no longer help joining in the conversation. "On account of her bills, sir," said the little fellow. "Father is dead, and mother works very hard, but she cannot pay them all.” 8. My friend took the child, and with him the great loaf of bread, into his arms, and I really believe he kissed them both. Meanwhile the baker's wife, who did not dare to touch a cricket herself, had gone into the bakehouse. She made her hus band catch four, and put them into a box with holes in the lid, so they might breathe. She gave the box to the child, who went away perfectly happy. 9. When he had gone, the baker's wife and my friend gave each other a good squeeze of the hand. "Poor little fellow!" said they both together. Then she took down her account-book, and finding the page where the mother's charges were written, made a great dash all down the page, and then wrote at the bottom, "Paid." 10. Meantime my friend, to lose no time, had put up in a paper all the money in his pockets, where fortunately he had quite a sum that day, and begged the good wife to send it at once to the mother of the little cricket-boy, with her bill receipted, and a note, in which he told her she had a son who would one day be her joy and pride. II. They gave it to the baker boy with the long legs, and told him to make haste. The child, with his big loaf, his short legs, and his four crickets, could not run very fast, so that when he reached home he found his mother, for the first time in many weeks, with her eyes raised from her work, and a smile of peace and happiness upon her lips. 12. The boy believed it was the arrival of his four little black things which worked this miracle, and I do not think he was mistaken. Without the crickets and his good little heart, would this happy change have taken place in his mother's fortunes? From the French of P. J. Stahl. PHILIP, MY KING. I. LOOK at me with thy large brown eyes, For round thee the purple shadow lies Lay on my neck thy tiny hand, I am thine Esther to command 2. Oh, the day when thou goest a-wooing, When those beautiful lips are suing, Tenderly, over thy kingdom fair; 3. I gaze from thy sweet mouth up to thy brow, Philip, my King! Ay, there lies the spirit, all sleeping now, 4. A wreath, not of gold, but palm. One day, Philip, my King! Thou too must tread, as we tread, a way Rebels within thee and foes without Dinah Maria Mulock. A SINGING LESSON. 1. A NIGHTINGALE made a mistake- And she hid from the moon. She wrung her claws, poor thing, 2. A lark, arm-in-arm with a thrush, 3. "O nightingale," cooed a dove, “O nightingale, what's the use? Like a common, contemptible fowl; Why behave like an owl? 4. "Only think of all you have doneOnly think of all you can do; A false note is really fun From such a bird as you! Other birds have to do their best, But you need only speak." |