way they did their nurse great credit; and people were as much afraid of Romulus and Remus (for so they were afterwards called), as they were of any hungry wolves in the neighbourhood. When they were grown up to be men, they determined to build a city; but, as they had learnt from their foster-mother to quarrel and snarl, before they had got very far with their work, they must needs squabble about the proper height of the walls. From words they came to blows, and Romulus killed his brother with his own hand.

Some of the Romans believed this story about the founder of their city to be true; but it is most likely that it was all invented by some one who thought that he who could be so savage as to kill his brother was more of a brute than a man, and imagined that he must have been nursed by a wolf, or he could not have been so cruel.

For the wolf is really a cruel robber, who, if animals could speak, would no doubt have said, and done too, exactly what he is charged with in the fable of the "Wolf and the Lamb;" and who, if he were only big enough, and had the chance, would fall to and make a meal of any little Red-Riding-Hood and her Grandmamma who might fall in his way.

When you read books of natural history, you will see that wolves are like large, very fierce dogs, that they are ill-tempered and quarrelsome among themselves, great cowards when in danger, but sly, artful, and cruel towards all animals weaker than themselves. They prowl about by night, often many of them together; for, though they snarl and bite each other when they have nothing else to do, they join together readily whenever there is any mischief in hand.

They live for the most part in mountainous countries;

and during the seasons when the sheep and goats wander about the hills, they carry off great numbers, taking good care, however, to keep out of the way of the shepherds and their dogs. But in winter, when the flocks are driven to the folds, and the wolves are hard pressed by hunger, they come near the villages, and prey on any straggling animals they can find, killing sometimes horses and mules, in short, any animal that exhibits fear and runs away from them. Children have many times been carried off by them and devoured; and they have been known to hunt down and kill even men and women.

Some of these stories are too horrible for me to tell you; but the following one, which is quite true, shows that a stout heart is a match for even the fierceness and cruelty of a wolf:

Not many years ago a farmer, who lived in a small village in Hungary, was obliged to go on business to the next market-town, which was a few miles off. The season was winter, and, as it was a very severe one, the ground was, and had long been, covered with deep snow. So all the sheep and goats had been driven to the village for shelter, and the wolves had become unusually savage from hunger. The farmer, who knew this, was anxious to finish his business in good time, so that he might return home before dark. But unfortunately he met some friends at the market-town, and stayed so long with them, that it was growing late in the afternoon before he started homewards. Still, as his friends intended to return to the same village with himself, he thought that, however fierce the wolves might be, they would not venture to attack so strong a party as they made when united.

The ground, I have said, was covered with snow; and I should also say, that in countries where the snow lies

too deep for wheeled carriages, it is the custom to ride in sledges. A sledge is a low carriage, which, instead of wheels, has beneath it, running lengthwise, two smooth bars of wood, which do not sink into the snow and get clogged, as wheels would be certain to do, but slide along smoothly, and are less tiresome to a horse than wheels are on an ordinary road. The farmer and his friends got into their sledges and drove off. For a long time all went on very well; they kept together and scarcely thought of the wolves, so pleasant was it to glide smoothly and quickly over the snow in the clear, frosty afternoon.

But as it grew towards dark, and when the farmer was within a quarter of a mile of the village, he found he was left so far behind that his companions were all out of sight. He was so near home, however, that he did not think there could be any danger, and went on without making any remark. But just as he had got clear of a wood which had bordered the road for some distance, he fancied he heard a noise behind him, and, looking round, to his great terror, a wolf spring from the corner of the road, and tear away after the sledge at the top of his speed.

saw,

He was seated in the back of the sledge, and so was nearest to the danger; the driver, a boy, sat in front. The farmer instantly shouted to the boy, "A wolf! a wolf! Drive on for your life; he is almost on us.'

The boy looked round, and was as much terrified as his master when he saw the monster so close behind them. He shouted to his horses, and whipped them with all his might, in hopes of reaching the village before they should be overtaken. Away flew the horses as if they knew, as they most likely did, what need there was for haste. Away flew the sledge on the slippery road with fearful speed; but the wolf

seemed to know that his only chance of food depended on his overtaking them before they reached the village; so he, too, quickened his pace. The village was now only two hundred yards off, but the wolf was drawing nearer and nearer, almost near enough to make his fearful spring. Again the farmer looked round, and saw his enemy almost within reach, and fancied he felt his hot breath on his neck. "Faster, faster!" he cried; "he is on us. For your life, faster." But the horses were doing their utmost, and the sledge was swaying from side to side, and threatening every instant to turn over.

The wolf made his spring! But almost while he was in the act of doing so, the farmer, as a last chance of safety, huddled his sheepskin-hood over his head, and leant forward. In an instant, the wolf was on him, and griped with his hideous fangs the thick sheepskin that covered his neck. The farmer was a strong man; but his bodily strength would have been of little use, if he had not also had ready wit and a stout heart.

You or I, perhaps, would have screamed and tried to shake off both hood and wolf together; but the farmer in a moment threw up both his hands, clasped them together over the wolf's neck with all his strength, and hugged him to his shoulder. "Faster, drive on!" he shouted again, and away they swept-boy, man, and wolf-as swift almost as the wind.

They thus reached the village; and the villagers, alarmed by the speed of the horses, and the shouts of the man and boy, rushed out to see what was the matter. "A wolf! a wolf!" they cried; but the horses were going so swiftly, that the boy could not pull them up at once. At length, however, he succeeded in stopping them; and the villagers soon killed the monster with their axes, actually on the

farmer's back. The farmer's hands, it is said, were so stiffened with holding on so tightly, that he could hardly loose them from the dead wolf's neck; but he soon recovered, and went to bed that night, with a heart more than ever thankful to God for the strength and presence ofmind which He had so mercifully given to him.

THE BLIND MAN.

WEARY and faint, the blind man came
Unto the cottage door;

He'd walked so far, his feet were lame,
And his dog could run no more.

The sun was shining bright and clear,
But he could not see the sun;
The rich ripe grapes were hanging near,
But he perceived not one.

Kind little Mary saw him come,
And so did John, her brother;
And quickly to the house they run
To tell their loving mother.

And soon the little girl appeared,
With a bowl of milk and bread,
And Rover's ears were both upreared,
When he heard her gentle tread.

He watched the bowl with wistful eye,
And plain as looks could speak,

He said his tongue was very dry,

And that hunger made him weak.