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when I come to thy servant my father, and the lad be not with us; (seeing that his life is bound up in the lad's life ;) it shall come to pass, when he seeth that the lad is not with us, that he will die : and thy servants shall bring down the gray hairs of thy servant our father with sorrow to the grave. For thy servant became surety for the lad unto my father, saying, if I bring him not unto thee, then I shall bear the blame to my father for ever. Now therefore, I pray thee, let thy servant abide instead of the lad a bondman to my lord ; and let the lad go up with his brethren. For how shall I go up to my father, and the lad be not with me? Lest peradventure I see the evil that shall come on my father.
THE KITE; OR, PRIDE MUST HAVE A FALL.
ONCE on a time a paper kite,
6 Were I but free, I'd take a flight,
It tugged and pulled, while thus it spoke,
Deprived at once of all its stay,
THE FLY AND THE SPIDER. 6 Will you walk into my parlour ?" said a spider to a
fly; 66 'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did
spy. The way into my parlour is up a winding stair, And I have many pretty things to show when you are
there." “Oh no, no !” said the little fly, “ to ask me is in
vain, For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come
down again.” “I'm sure you must be weary, with soaring up so
high, Will you rest upon my little bed ?" said the spider to
6 There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets
are fine and thin; And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in." 6 Oh no, no!" said the little fly, “ for I've often heard
it said, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your
Said the cunning spider to the fly, “ Dear friend, what
shall I do, To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you? I have, within my pantry, good store of all that's nice ; I'm sure you're very welcome-will you please to take
a slice ?" 6 Oh no, no!” said the little fly, “kind sir, that can
not be, I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish
“Sweet creature !” said the spider, “you're witty
and you're wise, How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant
are your eyes ! I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf, If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold
yourself.” “ I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “ for what you're
pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another
The spider turned him round about, and went into
his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner, sly,
“ Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and
silver wing ; Your robes are green and purple--there's a crest upon
your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are
dull as lead.”
Alas, alas ! how very soon this silly little fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flit
ting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and
nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and
purple hue ;Thinking only of her crested head-poor foolish
thing !-At last Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal
den, Within his little parlour-but she ne'er came out
again! -And now, dear little children, who may this story
read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give
heed: Unto an evil counsellor, close heart, and ear, and
eye, And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and
THINGS BY THEIR RIGHT NAMES.
Charles. FRANK, you grow very lazy.-Last winter you used to tell me stories, and now you never tell me any; and I am quite ready to hear you. Pray, dear Frank, let me have a pretty one.
Frank. With all my heart—what shall it be?
F. A bloody murder! Well then-Once upon a time, some men, dressed all alike
C. With black crapes over their faces.
F. No; they had steel caps on-having crossed a dark plain, wound cautiously along the skirts of a deep wood
Č. They were ill-looking fellows I dare say.
F. I cannot say so; on the conirary, they were tall men-leaving, on their right hand, an old ruined meeting-house on the hill.
C. At midnight, just as the clock struck twelve, was it not?
F. No, really; it was on a fine balmy summer's morning-and moved forwards, one behind another
C. As still as death, creeping along under the fences.
F. On the contrary, they walked remarkably upright; and so far from endeavouring to be hushed and still, they made a loud noise as they came along, with several sorts of instruments.
C. But, Frank, they would be found out immediately.
F. They did not seem to wish to conceal them· selves : on the contrary, they gloried in what they