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THE DISCONTENTED CHILDREN.

CHAPTER I.

THE FAIRY DISCONTENT IN THE SCHOOL-ROOM.

"My head aches so dreadfully, I cannot learn this stupid lesson," cried Agatha Falkland, as she pushed her book impatiently away.

"And my exercise will never be done," said her brother Charles, a fine boy of twelve years of age, who sat looking out of the window, with his slate before him and his pencil in his hand. “It is much too difficult for me," added he, with a sigh; "and, besides, I heard the doctor tell papa it was a dangerous thing to work in hot weather."

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Dolly shall never learn any lessons," chimed in little Lucy, who was busy dressing her doll in a corner.

"You have no occasion to talk, child," returned her elder sister, snappishly, "what do you know about lessons? for my part, I wish there were no such things in the world."

"Shall we ask her majesty to abolish them altogether?" enquired Charles gravely, as he lounged out of the window, and pretended to fish with his riding whip.

"I wish you would," replied Agatha, in a complaining tone; "for only look, Miss Montague says I am to learn all this page without missing a word!"

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Why don't you complain to mamma?" said Charles.

Why," interrupted Agatha hesitating, for she had a slight qualm of conscience that occasionally struggled into existence," why-because-the fact is, I was to have said. it yesterday, but I was so poorly."

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"And you are poorly again to-day, you know," said her brother, with a touch of sarcasm," and if you have to learn your lessons nobody knows how ill it will make you."

"Is any thing the matter, sister Agatha?" asked little Lucy, who had now laid her doll in the cradle for its morning's nap, and came softly behind her sister's chair.

"Do get away, child, and don't teaze me," said Agatha, vexed at her brother's ridicule; "how am I to learn this hateful geography if every body will talk?"

At this precise moment, the wicket gate at the further end of the lawn was opened, and a little boy and girl came timidly in, as if half frightened at their own presumption. They were pretty, light-haired, blue-eyed children, poorly, though neatly, dressed, and were pushing before them a pet lamb, that had its head and neck adorned with flowers and ribbons; and a great deal of whispering passed between them before they could summon courage to approach the window.

"O what a dear thing!" exclaimed Agatha; and in an instant lessons and head-ache were alike forgotten, and the three children ran with all speed down the flight of steps that led out upon the lawn.

The little rustics made one her curtsey and the other his bow; and then the boy, on whom the task of spokesman seemed to devolve, said in a cheerful pleasant voice, “ We thought Miss you'd maybe like a pet lamb. It's very tame and will eat out of your hand."

"O how delightful!" cried Agatha; " and have you really brought this sweet little creature for me? How very kind of you!"

"How very kind!" repeated Lucy, throwing her arms round the lamb's neck, and beginning to play with its pretty wreath of flowers.

"There, that will do," said Agatha, pulling her rather impatiently away: "it is not your lamb remember; and now you may fetch me a piece of bread to feed it with.”

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