THE LITTLE BLACK PONY.

ONE morning, as usual after their breakfast, the children went down stairs into the parlour. That day, their Papa and Mamma had letters to talk over, so Lucy and Arthur had leave to run in the garden, instead of staying in for their lessons, as was the custom in general. It was summer time, and a beautiful day; and very joyfully they ran off. If you knew their ways, you would guess the first thing they did was to seek

Richard, the gardener, for Richard kept the key of the stable, and Richard alone could carry them to their dear little black pony.

"Come along, Richard," shouted Arthur, as he seized hold of Richard's jacket, "come along, we want to see Taff."

Richard went on working leisurely, pointing to a certain stick he must reach, before he should leave off.

"Then, Master Richard, please to make haste," cried the impatient young gentleman; "for if you do not, I will pick your pocket of the key; I will dig up your bed; I will eat up all your turnips :" and Arthur pretended to look very fierce.

"Oh! Arthur," cried Lucy,

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you should

not speak in that manner," though she

could scarcely help laughing, he was marching about in such threatening attitudes.

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Well, Master Arthur, you seem in a terrible hurry this morning," said Richard, looking up very good-naturedly, but continuing his work.

"I am in a terrible hurry, Mr. Richard; for we have got a holiday, and we are going to gallop up to the moon."

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Why that is a long journey, Master; I am afraid you won't get back before night, so we had better look sharp; " said Richard; and having now reached the stick he had pointed out, he set down his hoe, and proceeded, with the little people across the yard. Richard took the key out of his pocket, when Arthur, who had galloped on before, exclaimed,

"Halloa! Richard, look; here's the stable

"The door open!" cried Richard; "why who's been and opened it? but no one could, for I took the key home with me last night."

"Taff's gone! he's ! he's gone!" exclaimed Arthur, who had run to the door and looked in; "he's gone, he's run away!"

"Taff gone!" said little Lucy, looking quite pale; " oh! Richard, what shall we do?-poor dear little Taff."

Richard, who had been looking at the lock of the door, now perceived that he had not quite closed it before he turned the key, so it had not fastened; and perhaps the wind had in the night blown open the door, and Taff, seeing it open, had marched out. What was to be done? Un