have ventured to half express, thus rapping your mule provokingly over the heels, does he not kick instinctively?

I would not blame my mule for letting the heels fly up on such an occasion, if he would then resume his gravity and maintain his just equilibrium until another such provocation should be offered; but he always assumes an offensive attitude, and gets ready to kick whenever the aforesaid individual comes near.

In this, I think, he shows a bad spirit-a characteristic, unforgiving, mule spirit. And yet I would take this occasion to suggest respectfully to some people that they are not required to rap the heels of every mule that they see. There is no evidence of lack of good breeding, nor of want of mental capacity, nor of meager information in not disagreeing with every remark that any one may make in your presence. It is altogether proper not to contradict every assertion which your companion may casually make in conversation with you.

Again, my mule runs away sometimes without knowing just where he is going.

Dick's mule got scared at an old stump at the roadside one day and dashed away into the woods. (N. B.-There were no fences along the road.) It was an unpleasant excursion for Dick-over old logs, in dangerous proximity to huge trees, dodging under branches-until the mule was brought to a stand-still in a dense thicket of brush and briers. Dick was consoled with the thought, however, that it was a mule that did it, and so he calmly took his bearings and proceeded to extricate himself and the mule, and get back to the safe road from which he had been carried.

My mule does in a like manner sometimes. Occasionally I find myself going at a dizzy rate of speed away

from my life's highway-away from the plain road along which I have been traveling peacefully and pleasantlyaway from the long-tried and cherished truths that have been the sign-boards of my life's journey-cut of the woods of doubt and uncertainty-out and away I know not whither, until I am brought to a halt in a dense thicket through which I cannot go and from which I have to back out. Well, my mule does it, and there is some consolation in that thought, as I hunt the way back to the old road. My mule got scared at something he did not quite understand, and so he struck off on what turned. out to be no road at all. That is all.

Thus I have learned to distinguish between myself and my mule, though we always go together.

THEODORE CROWL.

ANNIE AND WILLIE'S PRAYER.

WAS the eve before Christmas, "Good-night" had

'T been said,

And Annie and Willie had crept into bed;

There were tears on their pillows, and tears in their

eyes,

And each little bosom was heaving with sighs,

For to-night their stern father's command had been

given

That they should retire precisely at seven

Instead of at eight-for they troubled him more
With questions unheard of than ever before:
He had told them he thought this delusion a sin,
No such a creature as "Santa Claus" ever had been.

And he hoped, after this, he should never more hear How he scrambled down chimneys with presents each

year.

And this was the reason that two little heads

So restlessly tossed on their soft, downy beds.
Eight, nine, and the clock on the steeple tolled ten,
Not a word had been spoken by either till then,
When Willie's sad face from the blanket did peep,
And whispered, "Dear Annie, is 'ou fast as'eep?"
"Why no, brother Willie," a sweet voice replies,
"I've long tried in vain, but I can't shut my eyes,
For somehow it makes me so sorry because
Dear papa has said there is no 'Santa Claus.'
Now we know there is, and it can't be denied,
For he came every year before mamma died;
But, then, I've been thinking that she used to pray,
And God would hear everything mamma would say,
And maybe she asked him to send Santa Claus here
With the sack full of presents he brought every year."
"Well, why tan't we p'ay dest as mamma did den,
And ask Dod to send him with p'esents aden?"
"I've been thinking so too," and without a word more
Four little bare feet bounded out on the floor,
And four little knees the soft carpet pressed,

And two tiny hands were clasped close to each breast.

"Now, Willie, you know we must firmly believe That the presents we ask for we're sure to receive; You must wait very still till I say the 'Amen.'

And by that you will know that your turn has come then."

"Dear Jesus, look down on my brother and me,
And grant us the favor we are asking of thee.
I want a wax dolly, a tea-set, and ring,
And an ebony work-box that shuts with a spring.

Bless papa, dear Jesus, and cause him to see
That Santa Claus loves us as much as does he;
Don't let him get fretful and angry again

At dear brother Willie and Annie.

Amen."

"Please, Desus, 'et Santa Taus tum down to-night,
And b'ing us some p'esents before it is light;
I want he should div' me a nice 'ittie s'ed,
With bright shinin' 'unners, and all painted red;
A box full of tandy, a book, and a toy,
Amen, and then, Desus, I'll be a dood boy.

Their prayers being ended, they raised up their heads, And with hearts light and cheerful, again sought their

beds.

They were lost soon in slumber, both peaceful and

deep,

And with fairies in dreamland were roaming in sleep.

Eight, nine, and the little French clock had struck ten,
'Ere the father had thought of his children again:
He seems now to hear Annie's half-suppressed sighs,
And to see the big tears stand in Willie's blue eyes.
"I was harsh with my darlings," he mentally said,
"And should not have sent them so early to bed;
But then I was troubled; my feelings found vent,
For bank stock to-day has gone down ten per cent.
But of course they've forgotten their troubles ere this,
And that I denied them them the thrice-asked-for kiss:
But, just to make sure, I'll go up to their door,
For I never spoke harsh to my darlings before."
So saying, he softly ascended the stairs,
And arrived at the door to hear both of their
His Annie's" Bless papa" drew forth the big tears,
And Willie's grave promise fell sweet on his ears.

prayers;

"Strange-strange-I'd forgotten," said he with a sigh, "How I longed when a child to have Christmas draw nigh."

"I'll atone for my harshness," he inwardly said,

"By answering their prayers ere I sleep in my bed."
Then he turned to the stairs and softly went down,
Threw off velvet slippers and silk dressing-gown,
Donned hat, coat, and boots, and was out in the street-
A millionaire facing the cold driving sleet!

Nor stopped he until he had bought every thing,
From the box full of candy to the tiny gold ring;
Indeed, he kept adding so much to his store,
That the various presents outnumbered a score.
Then homeward he turned, when his holiday load,
With Aunt Mary's help, in the nursery was stowed.
Miss Dolly was seated beneath a pine tree,
By the side of a table spread out for her tea;
A work-box well filled in the centre was laid
And on it the ring for which Annie had prayed,
A soldier in uniform stood by a sled

“With bright shining runners, and all painted red." There were balls, dogs, and horses, books pleasing to

see

And birds of all colors were perched in the tree!
While Santa Claus, laughing, stood up in the top,
As if getting ready more presents to drop.
And as the fond father the picture surveyed,
He thought for his trouble he had amply been paid,
And he said to himself, as he brushed off a tear,
"I'm happier to-night than I've been for a year;
I've enjoyed more true pleasure than ever before,
What care I if bank stock falls ten per cent. more!
Hereafter I'll make it a rule, I believe,

To have Santa Claus visit us each Christmas Eve."