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Mr. L. How long have you been out in this field ?
B. Ever since six in the morning, sir.
Mr. L. And are you not hungry?
B. Yes sir. I shall go to my dinner soon.

Mr. L. If you had sixpence now, what would you do with it?

B. I don't know, I never had so much in my life. Mr. L. Have you no playthings?

B. Playthings! what are they ? · Mr. L. Such as balls, ninepins, marbles, tops, and wooden horses.

B. No sir ; but our Tom makes footballs to kick in the cold weather, and we set traps for birds; and then I have a jumping pole and a pair of stilts to walk through the dirt with; and I had a hoop, but it is broken.

Mr. L. And do you want nothing else?

B. No. I have hardly time for those ; for I always ride the horses to the field, and bring up the cows, and run to the town on errands, and that is as good as play, you know.

Mr. . Well, but you could buy apples or gingerbread at the town, I suppose, if you had money.

B. 0-I can get apples at home ; and as for gingerbread, I don't mind it much, for my mammy gives me a piece of pie, now and then, and that is as good,

Mr. L. Would you not like a knife to cut sticks?

B. I have one-here it is brother Toni gave it me. .

Mr. L. Your shoes are full of holes-don't you want a better pair ?

B. I have a better pair for Sundays.
Mr. L. But these let in water.
B. I don't care for that.
Mr. L. Your hat is all torn too.

B. I have a better hat at home, but I had as lief have none at all, for it hurts my head.'

Mr. L. What do you do when it rains ?

B. If it rains very hard, I get under the fence till it is over.

Mr. L. What do you do when you are hungry before it is time to go home?

B. I sometimes eat a raw turnip.
Mr. L. But if there are none ?

B. Then I do as well as I can ; I work on and ( never think of it.

Mr. L. Are you not dry sometimes, this hot weather?

B. Yes, but there is water enough.

Mr. L. Why, my little fellow, you are quite a philosopher!

B. Sir ?

Mr. L. I say you are a philosopher, but I am sure you do not know what that means.

B. No sir-no harm I hope. . Mr. L. No, no! Well, my boy, you seem to want nothing at all, so I shall not give you money to make! you want any thing. But were you ever at school ?

B. No sir, but daddy says I shall go after harvest.
Mr. L. You will want books then.

B. Yes sir, the boys have all a spelling-book, and a testament.

Mr. L. Well then, I will give you them—tell your daddy so, and that it is because I thought you a very good, contented boy. So now go to your sheep again.

B. I will sir. Thank you.
Mr. L. Good bye, Peter.
B. Good bye, sir.


A HORSE, long used to bit and bridle,
But always much disposed to idle,
Had often wished that he was able
To steal unnoticed from the stable.

He panted, from his inmost soul, "
To be at nobody's control,
Go his own pace, slower or faster,
In short, do nothing-like his master.

But yet, he ne'er had got at large, If Jack (who had him in his charge) Had not, as many have before, Forgot to shut the stable door. Dobbin, with expectation swelling, Now rose to quit his present dwelling, But first peeped out, with cautious fear, To examine if the coast was clear. At length he ventured from his station, And with extreme self-approbation, As if delivered from a load, He galloped to the public road. And here he stood awhile debating, (Till he was almost tired of waiting) Which way he'd please to bend his course, Now there was nobody to force. At last, unchecked by bit or rein, He sauntered down a pleasant lane, And neighed forth many a jocund song, In triumph as he passed along.

But when dark night began to appear,
In vain he sought some shelter near,
And he was sure he could not bear
To sleep out in the open air.

The grass felt very damp and raw,
Much colder than his master's straw,
Yet on it he was forced to stretch,
A poor, cold, melancholy wretch.
The night was dark, the country hilly,
Poor Dobbin felt extremely chilly;
Perhaps a feeling like remorse,
Just now might sting the gentle horse.

As soon as day began to dawn,
Dobbin, with long and weary yawn,
Arose from this his sleepless night,
But in low spirits and bad plight.
If this (thought he) is all I get,
A bed unwholesome, cold, and wet;
And thus forlorn about to roam,
I think I'd better be at home.
'Twas long ere Dobbin could decide,
Betwixt his wishes and his pride,
Whether to live in all his danger,
Or go back sneaking to the manger.
At last his struggling pride gave way;
The thought of savoury oats and hay
To hungry stomach was a reason
Unanswerable at this season.
So off he set, with look profound,
Right glad that he was homeward bound;.
And trotting fast as he was able,
Soon gained once more his master's stable.
Now Dobbin, after this disaster,
Never again forsook his master,
Convinced he'd better let him mount,
Than travel on his own account.


ONE SHILLING. Charles. Harry, what do you think I have got?

Harry. How should I know? Let me see. | Charles. Why, sixpence, that grandmamma has given me to spend on the Common: it is Election day.

Harry. Ay, so have I.-But what do you mean to do with yours?

Charles. Why, spend it, to be sure !- What is money for, I wonder?

Harry. But, I mean, what do you want to buy?

Charles. 0, want! Why I'll go to the Common, and find out there. I dare say I shall want a hundred things before I have been there five minutes.

Harry. Then, if I were you, I would not go, for you will be able to have but one.

Charles. Well, I shall have one, and see the rest, and that will be better than nothing, will it not ?

Harry. Why, yes, if it be any thing you really want, and will be of any use to you.

Charles. Oh, I am sure I shall really want it, no fear of that; and as for use, you would not have me buy a pair of shoes, or a spelling book, because they are .so useful? I suppose you mean to buy a flannel nightcap, or a peck of potatoes with yours.

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