THE MAN AND THE WHITE BEAR. IN the far North the sea is very cold. Sometimes you may see hills of ice floating about. There are also large sheets of ice near the shore.

Well, one day, a white bear was standing on one of these sheets of ice, near the edge. So the piece broke off, and he floated away out to sea.

Now, there was a man on shore who thought he would like to kill the Bear. So he got into his boat, and sailed towards it. When his boat touched the piece of ice, the Bear quietly stepped into the boat. There he sat down and looked at the man. The man was nearly frightened to death, as you may guess. But the Bear sat as qui'et as a lamb.

At last the man took to his oars and rowed to the shore. When he got there, out stepped the Bear, and off he ran. He did not stop to pay his fare, and the man did not press the charge.

tell

one

Well, Yarice, chickens, and she was very proud of them, I can you. By-and-bye she might be seen strut ting about the yard to give her tiny family air ing. Perhaps, too, she thought it a good thing to give her chicks an ear ely chance of seeing the world.

day, had newly a brood of

an air.

were de lighted with

every

As for them, they thing. If any thing, they proved a little too frisky

for their sober mamma.

Mistress Yarico checked them and chid them in vain, and this made her very sad. Mother Yarico

fretted more and more as

grow

to

tiny nurs

lings

bolder and bolder. She knew they would come

grief some fine day. Well, one morn ing off they set by them selves. They got through the paling, and ""Chuck, chuck! what a nice big world this is," said they. Now, sec'ing some fine bushes far off, they agreed and have a peep at them.

to go

Of course, they believed they would be back in no time, and good mother Yarico would surely forgive them.

But, oh dear me! they

never came

back; for

the place they went to was quile a nest of Foxes.

B

know so

cried the bereaved mother,

with young things, they think they

way

much more than their parents.

THE SPARROW.

GLAD to see you, little bird,
"Twas your pretty chirp I heard;
What, did you intend to say,
"Give me something this cold day?"
That I will, and plenty too;
All these crumbs I saved for you;
Don't be frightened-here's a treat;
I will wait and see you eat.

bold;

Frost and snow have made you
I'll not hurt you, though I'm told
There are many reasons why
Every sparrow ought to die.

Thomas says you steal his wheat,
John complains his plums you eat-
Choose the ripest for your share,
Never asking whose they are.

Shocking tales I hear of you;
Chirp, and tell me, are they true?
Robbing all the summer long :
Don't you think it very wrong?

Yet

you seem an honest bird;

And I may also say I've heard:

That insects, grubs, and worms you eat,
And other things that spoil the wheat.

So I will not try to know

What you did so long ago;

There's your breakfast, eat away,

Come and see me every day.

THE DOG AND THE TARTS.

THERE was once a dog, and his name was Black Muzzle. A finer fellow never trotted. He had a thick, glossy fur, and oh, such a splendid tail! He was also so brave, he could hold his own with any dog alive.

Black Muzzle used to go errands for his master. At these times, he would trot along without a look on this side or on that: he felt so proud!

Well, one day, he was sent to the baker's for some tarts, and away he trotted with his basket in his mouth. The baker put the tarts nicely at the bottom of the basket, and Black Muzzle set off for home.

Now, another dog on the road smelt the tarts. And he thought he would go a little way with Black Muzzle, just for the sake of company, as it were. At last the strange dog put his nose

into the basket and seized one of the tarts. Black Muzzle at once dropped his basket and sprang upon the dainty thief.

The noise and bustle soon brought other dogs to the spot, seeing the tarts they also began to help them selves. For they thought that a pleasant way to pass the time, you know.

Poor Black Muzzle looked round in dismay. His tarts were fast disappearing, one, two, three, four, five. Oh! dear, it was enough to send any dog crazy, was it not? What was he against so many? Black Muzzle thought out the question

in a twinkling. He made peace with his enemies, and joined the feast with a right good will.

good-nature ill-nature

lodging
kennel

tattered
withered

THE BLIND MAN'S FRIEND.

MY Jack said, "I will tell you a story about a cur that I admire more than any dog I know."

"A cur!" cried Fanny and Willy, both at once; for they thought a cur must be a good-for-nothing, mean, ill-natured dog.

"No," said Jack, "that is quite wrong as you will see. A poor, old, blind man was one day sitting on a door step in the street; they had turned him out of his little miserable lodging. He had no friend left in the world, and he wished to die. He said to himself, I cannot beg any more, men are so very hard---I would rather die at once;' and then he let his head fall upon his hands.

"A little cur dog, with an ugly stump of a tail, and badly cut ears, came to him out of the kennel, and rubbed himself against his legs; but the blind beggar did not notice him. The little cur sat down beside him."

"When the old man wrung his withered hands, and said, 'I have no friend left! I have no friend left!' he jumped up to him and licked his hands, as if he would have said, 'Let me be your friend.' This he said so often in his own way, that at last the blind beggar stooped to stroke him, and tears rolled down his blind eyes upon the little dog's

coat.

"That night the rats couldn't come to nibble the blind man's hair and his tattered clothes, as they had often done before, for his little cur kept them