But these boys were sometimes so naughty, when they thought they were not seen, as to venture in, and move the boat about as much as they could, whilst it was moored, that is, tied to a post by the shore. Two or three times they had been caught, and even punished for doing so; yet one day when they thought their father and mother were both out, they agreed they would venture again into the boat.

"There can be no harm in it," said Hugh; "we shall be quite safe: and even if we should overset her and fall out, at the worst it would only give us a ducking, and I am sure it could not hurt these old clothes; so come along." Robert could not feel so easy about the matter. "I do not," said he "think it quite right to go in, because papa and mamma are not with us.""Pooh! nonsense,” replied Hugh, "what a fuss you make about your quite right! What harm is there in it? If they do not see us, they cannot be uneasy; so come along, it is a fine evening, and we will have a nice row."

"You don't mean," rejoined Robert, "to unmoor the boat, do you?"-" Yes, indeed do I," replied his brother; "I can push her off from the land, for I understand how to do it very well; so come along, I say, and do not waste any more time with your scruples and nonsense.

So saying, he scrambled into the boat and helped his brother in. Robert then, though his mind did not feel at all easy, assisted to loosen the boat from the post it was chained to, and they soon pushed off from the land. "There now," said Hugh; "I told you I could do it, and I wonder what the mighty harm is of our taking a

nice row, and enjoying ourselves this delightful afternoon.-Do not you find it very pleasant?" "It is pleasant enough, to be sure," replied Robert, "but I cannot say I enjoy it much. I am sure we are doing wrong. We were told

not to get into the boat at all, therefore we ought not to do it. I wish, with all my heart, I had not come. But let us row back again, and I will get out directly." "Indeed I shall not go back for a long time," said Hugh. "Now we have disobeyed and got into the boat, we may as well stay and enjoy ourselves for an hour or two. If my father knows of our being in it for only a minute, he will be just as angry as if we stay in ever so long."

"But I think," resumed Robert, "that the longer we are naughty, so much the worse boys we are. If we have done a wrong thing, the sooner we do right again the better we shall be ; therefore I am resolved not to stay here, so pray put back again." "Not I, indeed," said his brother, for "I am resolved to stay till it is dark; so row away, my lad." "I will row to the shore," said Robert. "And I will row into the middle," said Hugh; "so pull away, so pull away, let us both tug at our oars, and see which will gain their purpose first."

They then both exerted their utmost strength, but Hugh being the strongest, gained more way than his brother. Robert finding it impossible to get back again, threw down the oar, and bursting into tears said, "I see you are resolved not only to be wicked yourself, but to make me wicked also. I think it is very unkind to compel me to stay here, when I wish so very much to

go back."-" Well, come along," said Hugh, rather pettishly," take up your oar again, and go back if you will; but I think it is you that are unkind, not to stay out when I wish it so much. But you shall not say I made you wicked." Robert then gladly took up his oar, and in a few minutes was again safe on shore.

No sooner did Robert find himself out of the boat, than his eyes sparkled with joy, and he tried all he could to persuade his brother to get out also. But Hugh positively refused, and pushed himself off from the land, as he had done before. Hugh much enjoyed himself for some time, floating about on the water: but, at length, as he was trying to turn about, some how or other, for want of better understanding how to manage it, the boat dipped, as it is called, the water poured in, and in a minute with Hugh in it sunk down to the bottom. Robert, who had been watching his brother, saw what happened, and ran screaming home to call for assistance. The servants made the greatest haste to the water, but when they got there, neither boy or boat were to be seen, nor any other traces of them than Hugh's hat, which was swimming on the surface; and notwithstanding the most diligent search was made for him by drag-nets, and other means, day after day, his dead body was not found for above a month afterwards.But one day as his poor mother, and two of his sisters, were walking near the water, talking about him, they saw his remains half devoured by the fishes, floating upon the surface of the water. It is impossible to describe the distress they suffered, upon beholding so shocking a

sight; but they called the servants, and he was then buried in the church-yard, attended to the grave by all his afflicted family.

It was also many months before their poor mama was well again. The extreme terror she had suffered, and the distress she felt, when she reflected that it was owing to his disobedience that her son Hugh lost his life, greatly affected her health, and the doctor for several weeks feared she never would get well.

MY FATHER.

WHO call'd me first his little boy,
His source of hope and future joy,
And bade me not those hopes destroy?
My Father.

Who laugh'd to see me skip and play,
And brought me presents ev'ry day,
And taught me pretty things to say?
My Father.

Who taught me when a poor man came,
To ask for something, in God's name,
To give with all my heart the same?

My Father.

And oh! when I could read my book,
Who gave me such a tender look,
And such a heart-felt pleasure took?
My Father.

And when our friends would come to dine,

If I was good, who gave me wine,

And spruce new clothes that look'd so fine?
My Father.

And so I'll labour to excel,

And strive to read and write so well,

That all my friends, with pride may tell,

My Father.

A SOLEMN Owl, puffed up with vanity, sat repeating her screams at midnight from the hollow of a withered oak. "And wherefore," said she," this awful silence, unless it be to favour my superior melody? Surely the groves are hushed, in hopes of hearing my voice: and when I sing, all nature listens. nightingale," resumed she, has usurped the sovereignty by night. Her note, indeed, is musical; but mine is sweeter far. Why then am I diffident," continued she," to join the tuneful choir ?" An echo repeated, " Join the tuneful choir."

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The