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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,
Was mounted to a wondrous height,
Where, giddy with its elevation,
It thus expressed self-admiration :
- See how yon crowds of gazing people
Admire my flight above the steeple;
How would they wonder if they knew
All that a kite like me can do !

6 Were I but free, I'd take a flight,
And pierce the clouds beyond their sight;
But, ah! like a poor prisoner bound,
My string confines me near the ground;
I'd brave the eagle's towering wing,
Might I but fly without a string."

It tugged and pulled, while thus it spoke,
To break the string ; at last it broke.

Deprived at once of all its stay,
In vain it tried to soar away ; .
Unable its own weight to bear,
It fluttered downward through the air;
Unable its own course to guide,
The winds soon plunged it in the tide,
Ah! foolish kite, thou had'st no wing,
How could'st thou fly without a string ?
When you are prone to build a Babel,
Recall to mind this little fable.

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

the fly.

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

bed!”

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

to see.”

“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

day."

The spider turned him round about, and went into

his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back

again :

So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner, sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the fly.
Then he went out to his door again, and merrily did

sing,

“ 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

fast.

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

the Fly.

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?
C. A bloody murder.

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

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