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portunity to point out to her her dreadful neglect of duty. It was a kind, but a faithful reproof, calculated to awaken in her bosom every feeling of a mother that yet remained. Nancy did not leave the room until she had promised, by her own example, to encourage her husband to return to the uniform practice of sobriety. Thomas and his wife then took leave of their kind neighbors.

We will leave this happy fireside, and accompany Thomas and Nancy to their desolate home. As they approached the house, the faint cries of the neglected baby first struck the parents' ears. Poor Mary was endeavoring, as usual, to quiet the little sufferer. There was no fire upon the hearth, and no light upon the table, but the moonbeams through the changing clouds were sufficient to reveal the gloom and wretchedness of the drunkards' home. Thomas and Nancy could not but perceive the contrast between the home they had just left and their own. It was a contrast most sad and humiliating.

Early the next morning, the first person the family saw coming down the lane was little William Stevens. He had in his hand a basket of potatoes, which his father had sent to Thomas Millman, with a request that he would call at his work-shop after he had eaten his breakfast. This unexpected present gave much joy to this destitute family, and Mary, with her little brothers, will not soon forget how acceptable were their roast potatoes that morning, though eaten without butter or salt.

Thomas called, as he was requested, at William Stevens' work-shop, and found there a job which would employ him for a day or two. It was joyfully and speedily undertaken, and after an industrious day's work, he received, at the close, a part of his wages to lay out in food for his family. Thomas had little to struggle with this day, and on

the whole, it passed by easily and pleasantly. Not so with poor Nancy. Hav ing less to employ her mind than her husband, she was sorely tempted, more than once, to send Mary to the Yellow Shop to exchange what remained of her kind neighbor's gift for rum. But the thought of Hannah's kindness, and her own promise, so solemnly made, restrained her.

At last, the day wore by, and it was time for Thomas to return. As soon as the children saw him enter the lane, they ran, as was their custom, to their hiding-place; for, knowing nothing of what had recently transpired, they expected to find him intoxicated, as usual.

"Can that be father?" whispered they to each other as they heard a steady step and a calm voice. The youngest boy peeped out his head to see.

"Come here, my poor boy," said Thomas, kindly; "you needn't be afraid; I am not drunk." "Oh, he isn't drunk! he isn't drunk!" said Jemmy, clapping his hands in great joy; come out, children, father won't hurt us." Half faithless, half believing, the children left their hiding-place and came around their father.

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"Mother hasn't sent you for any rum to-day, has she, Mary?" "No, father; I hope I shall never go to that shop again." "You never shall, to buy rum, Mary, I promise you. Do you believe me?" Mary looked as if she did not quite believe, but she said nothing. * * * *

*

A year has passed by since the period when our history commenced. It is a fine morning in April, as it then was. The children of the village are pursu ing their way to school as pleasantly as they then were.

But where is the little girl, with soiled face, tattered dress, and bare feet, that then attracted our attention? Look for one of the happiest girls among that gay, laughing group, and you will

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to purchase comfortable clothing for his family, decent furniture for his house, and has besides partly paid for two yokes of oxen and four cows.

Look at Thomas at work in his field, and managing his little farm, thriving at home and respected abroad, and say what would tempt him to come again under the influence of his former ruinous habits? Look at Nancy, too, superintending her dairy and supplying the wants of her family-does she wish for a return of those days when she was the intemperate mother of hungry, neglected children? But are there not hundreds of mothers who are at this time what she once was? and can they not, will they not, be induced to become what she now is?

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to me, sir," said the honest creature, "that you use me very ill, particularly as I belong to a race of great antiquity, and one that has been honored above all four-footed beasts!"

"Why, how's that?" said the man. "How's that? indeed!" said the ass. "If you had read the Bible as much as you should, you would remember that it was one of my ancestors which conversed with a prophet, and stood in the presence of an angel on a certain occasion. This is an honor which belongs exclusively to the ass family, of which I am one, and therefore it seems meet that you should treat me with proper respect."

"Well done!" said the countryman; "well done! poor brute. This is ever the way. It seems to be with asses as with men when one has no merit of his own, he always boasts the dignity of his family, or the virtues of his ancestors. For my part, I know of nothing that sinks a beast or a man lower, than to see him attempt to cover up his own vices, or weakness, or folly, by showing off the dignity of his pedigree, or the respectability of his connections." Then, giving the ass a somewhat contemptuous kick, the man passed on.

TRAVELLING BEEHIVES.-In Switzerland, the traveller often sees a man trudging up the mountains with a hive of bees on his back. The people move the bees, because they know how good change of place is for them. This, too, is done almost everywhere in Scotland. In France, they put their hives into a boat, some hundreds together, which floats down the stream by night, and stops by day. The bees go out in the morning, return in the evening, and when they are all at home, and quiet, the boat floats on.

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finest silky down, or of cotton, or of the fibres of the flag-top that the boys call cat-tail, or of some other similar material. Within, it is lined in the most delicate manner with downy substances. The outside is covered with moss, usually of the color of the bough or twig to which the nest is attached, and giving it simply the appearance of an excrescence. The delicacy and ingenuity of workmanship in this case, as well as the skill displayed in the whole management of the affair, could hardly be excelled by human art.

There are several species of warblers which are very skilful in the formation of their nests, but we do not recollect to have met with anything more remarkable in this way than the nest of a species of grosbeak found in one of the Asiatic islands.

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THE SECRET.-"Mother," said a girl of ten years of age, "I want to know the secret of your going away alone every night and morning. Why, my dear?" "Because it must be to see some one you love very much." "And what leads you to think so?" "Because I have always noticed that when you come back you appear to be more happy than usual." "Well, suppose I do go to see a friend I love very much, and that after seeing him, and conversing with him, I am more happy than before, why should you wish to know anything

part of the story is to come-the whole is suspended on the leaf of a plant! How the bird could have built the nest in this position, it is not easy to say, but we have many evidences that instinct makes that easy to birds, which is difficult to the industry and ingenuity of mankind.

about it?" "Because I wish to do as you do, that I may be happy also."

"Well, my child, when I leave you in the morning and the evening, it is to commune with my Savior. I go to pray to him-I ask him for his grace to make me happy and holy-I ask him to assist me in all the duties of the day, and especially to keep me from committing any sin against him-and above all I ask him to have mercy on you, and save you from the misery of those who sin against him." "Oh, that is the secret," said the child; "then I must go with you."

THE LOGUE FAMILY.-The crier of a country court was upon a certain occasion required to go to the court-house door, and, as is usual in the absence of a witness, call out for Philip Logue, one of the sons of Erin, who was summoned in a case then pending. The man of the baton accordingly, stepping to the door, sung out at the top of his voice, "Philip Logue!" A wag of a lawyer happening to be passing the door at the time, whispered in his ear, "Epilogue, also." "Epi Logue!" sung out the "Decalogue," said the lawyer in an under tone. Dekky Logue!" again sung out the crier at the top of his

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voice. 66 Apologue," whispered the lawyer. "Appy Logue!" reiterated the crier, at the same time expostulating with the lawyer-"You certainly want the whole family of the Logues!" "Prologue," said the persevering lawyer. "Pro Logue!" rung through the halls of the court-house, from the stentorian lungs of the public crier, attracting the attention of everybody, and shocking the dignitaries on the bench themselves, who, not understanding the cause of his vociferousness, despatched the sheriff, with all haste, to stop the constable from further summoning the family of the Logues.

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