But I'm not quite so simple as that:

The poor calf never knows what she's at!"

5. Just that moment, the calf, who was always the laugh

And the jest of the yard, came in sight. "Did you shut my barn-door ?" asked the farmer

once more.

"I did, sir; I closed it last night,"

Said the calf; " and I thought that was right."

6. Then each one shook his head, "She will catch it," they said;

"Serves her right, for her meddlesome way!" Said the farmer, "Come here, little bossy, my dear!

You have done what I cannot repay,
And

your fortune is made from this day.

7. "For a wonder, last night, I forgot the door,

All

quite;

And if you had not shut it so neat,

my colts had slipped in, and gone right to

the bin,

And got what they ought not to eat

They'd have foundered themselves upon wheat."

8. Then each hoof of them all began loudly to bawl; The very mule smiled; the cock crew;

"Little Spotty, my dear, you're a favorite here,"
They cried. "We all said it was you,
We were so glad to give you your due."
And the calf answered knowingly, "Boo."

PHOEBE CARY.

Memory Gems from Bryant.
Truth crushed to earth shall rise again :
The eternal years of God are hers;
But Error, wounded, writhes with pain,
And dies amid his worshipers.

The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft and lay the architrave,

• And spread the roof above them; ere he framed
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back

The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood,
Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down,
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And supplication.

Loveliest of lovely things are they
On earth that soonest pass away:
The rose that lives its little hour

Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown

and sere.

Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings.

Is this a time to be cloudy and sad,

When our mother Nature laughs aroundWhen even the deep blue heavens look glad,

And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?

57.-Coasting.

1. How long is it since you had a sled? Did you ever have one? Perhaps you were brought up where there is no snow. If so, I pity you. No one can be a perfect man, rounded out into perfection on every side, who has not had chilblains, had his face rubbed with snow, been snow-balled, and who has not been upset on an icy hill and rolled over, sled and boy in one promiscuous heap.

2. Perhaps no improvement will ever enable a sled to give more pleasure than the rude rattletraps that country boys make for themselves. This was the most primitive form of our recollection: two staves of a barrel fastened together with a cleat at each end, the board at one end being wide enough to furnish a point of contact for the owner.

3. These required some skill in management; yet, as they could be made in ten minutes, a whole school, upon a sudden snow, could be started down hill in an hour or two, with such laughing, screaming, and hallooing as would wake the seven sleepers.

4. Next in rank were the board runners, shaped out of solid plank, and floored over strongly. Coarse, ungainly, and heavy as they were, some great sliding has been done on them. It is not the handsomest horse, or sled, or boy that gets along the best, is it?

5. Then came to our admiring eyes the framed

sleds, with open sides, fine runners well shod with steel, and at length iron-framed underpinning all through. To all this, in modern days, were added a blaze of paint and names as lofty as the

stars.

6. We admit that great improvements are made in beauty, and in convenience; but is any better sliding done on these superfine sleds than used to be and still is done on the old, rude, heavy, homely sleds of country make?

7.. Of all positions, the worst, the most inexcusable, is when one lies down upon his sled, with head to the front, steering with his toes. The position is ungainly; the head thrust forward and exposed to danger, and in case of need the body is in a helpless position.

8. Next is the side-saddle posture, or when the boy sits curled upon the rear of the sled, with one leg under him, and the other projected backward for a rudder.

9. The upright posture, with the legs extended over the sides, or carried forward between, and even in front of the runners, is the true position for a bold boy of the sled. He has the use of his whole body, and the perfect control of his sled ; and, if he comes to harm, it must be put down to that large account of profit and loss which every spirited boy runs up.

10. Let no man revile the joys of ice-clad hills, or ridicule the task of tugging a heavy sled up the

hill for the sake of rushing down again. Ah, yes; but that downward rush is ecstasy!

11. Clear the coast! Here goes! Right behind is a rival sled! Away we go, every yard quickening the gait! We come to the jumpers, flying through the air as if shot from a catapult, and striking down again with a jar that makes the sled creak.

12. Clear the coast! Here we come! The boys draw aside. Neck and neck we go! glorious! GLORIOUS! There is a sturdy old farmer who could never find out what boys were made for. He won't get out of the way-not he. He shakes his cane as a warning! Too late; we strike him just above the ankles, and he goes over our head like a shadow, but we hear him come down like a substance! In a second we are away, and out of reach and hearing. Of course there is a fuss, and we are called up, and the master talks to us, and we say we are sorry, and that is the end of it.

13. Then who will forget when our pretty cousin wanted to take a cruise on our sled? And how our sisters, too, were the guests of proudly polite boys, and how the courtesy of the hillside was shown to the girls as ardently and disinterestedly as ever it could be in after life on more important occasions?

14. Perhaps the teacher was willing to show his condescension and take passage on a double sled. Great was the hurrah raised for him, and ecstatic