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were about. They moved forwards, I say, to where stood a neat, pretty town, which they set on fire

C. Set a town on fire ? Wicked wretches !

F. And while it was burning, they murdered twenty thousand men..

C. O fie! You don't intend I shall believe all this. I thought all along you were making up a tale, as you often do; but you shall not catch me this time. What! they lay still, I suppose, and let these fellows cut their throats ?

F. No, truly, they resisted as long as they could.

C. How should these men kill twenty thousand people, pray?

F. Why not? the murderers were thirty thousand.

C. O, now I have found you out! You mean a BATTLE.

F. Indeed I do. I do not know of any murders half so bloody.



COME, take up your hats, and away let us haste
To the Butterfly's ball and the Grasshopper's feast :
The trumpeter Gad-fly has summoned the crew,
And the revels are now only waiting for you!
On the smooth shaven grass, by the side of a wood,
Beneath a broad oak, which for ages had stood,
See the children of earth, and the tenants of air,
To an evening's amusement together repair ;
And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black,
Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his back;

And there came the Gnat, and the Dragon-fly too,
And all their relations, green, orange, and blue.
And there came the Moth, with her plumage of down,
And the Hornet, with jacket of yellow and brown,
Who with him the Wasp, his companion, did bring,
But they promised that evening to lay by their sting.
Then the sly little Dormouse peeped out of his hole,
And led to the feast his blind cousin, the Mole;
And the Snail, with her horns peeping out of her shell,
Came fatigued with the distance—the length of an ell.

A mushroom the table, and on it was spread
A water-dock leaf, which their table-cloth made;
The viands were various, to each of their taste,
And the Bee brought the honey to sweeten the feast.

With steps most majestic, the Snail did advance,
And promised the gazers a minuet to dance;
But they all laughed so loud that he drew in his head
And went in his own little chamber to bed.

Then as the evening gave way to the shadows of

night, Their watchman, the Glow-worm, came out with his

light; So home let us hasten, while yet we can see; For no watchman is waiting for you or for me.



A SPANIEL, Beau, that fares like you,

Well fed, and at his ease,

Should wiser be than to pursue

Each trifle that he sees.

But you have killed a tiny bird,

Which flew not till to-day,
Against my orders, whom you heard

Forbidding you the prey.
Nor did you kill that you might eat

And ease a doggish pain,
For him, though chased with furious heat,

You left where he was slain.

Nor was he of the thievish sort,

Or one whom blood allures, But innocent was all his sport,

Whom you have torn for yours. My dog! what remedy remains,

Smce, teach you all I can, I see you, after all my pains,

So much resemble Man ?


Sir, when I flew to seize the bird

In spite of your command,
A louder voice than yours I heard,

And harder to withstand.

You cried-forbear—but in my breast

A mightier cried-proceed'Twas nature, Sir, whose strong behest

Impelld me to the deed.

Yet much as Nature I respect,

I ventured once to break
(As you, perhaps, may recollect)
· Her precept, for your sake:
And when your linnet, on a day,

Passing his prison door,
Had flutter'd all his strength away,

And panting pressed the floor;

Well knowing him a sacred thing,

Not destin'd to my tooth,
I only kissed his ruffled wing,

And lick'd his feathers smooth.

Let my obedience then, excuse

My disobedience now !
Nor some reproof yourself refuse

From your aggrieved Bow-wow!

If killing birds be such a crime,

(Which I can hardly see,)
What think you, Sir, of killing time

With verse addressed to me.


1. One morning, there was a little girl sitting on the door-steps of a pleasant cottage near the common. She was thin and pale. Her head was resting upon her slender hand. There was a touching sadness in her sweet face, which the dull, heavy expression about her jet-black eyes, did not destroy. What was she thinking of, sitting thus alone?

2. Perhaps of that pretty flower-garden, which she had cultivated with so much taste and care ;-those blue morning-glories, and bright yellow nasturtions, which she had taught to climb to her window ;-or those four-o'clocks, which she had planted in so straight a line, under the little fence which encircled the flower-bed. She might have been thinking of these ;-perhaps wondering whether she should see these flowers, which she had been cultivating with so much care, open their pretty leaves to another summer's sun.

3. Her name was Helen. For several weeks she had seemed to be drooping, without any particular disease ; inconstant in her attendance at school, and losing gradually her interests in all her former employments. Helen had one sister, Clara, a little older than herself, and several brothers. While she was most indisposed they had expressed a great deal of sympathy, and tried to amuse her, and had willingly given up their own enjoyments to promote hers. *

4. But children will too often be selfish ; and when Helen, for some days, appeared better and able to run about and amuse herself, they would forget how peculiarly sensitive she had become, and the cross words which they occasionally spoke, and the neglect with which they sometimes treated her, wounded her feelings, and caused her to shed many bitter tears, as she lay awake on her little cot at night.

5. This day she seemed better, and it was something her sister had said to her just before, which gave that expression of sadness to her face, as she sat at the door of the cottage. Clara soon came to her again.

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