Little =Roy led his sheep down to pasture,
And his cows, by the side of the brook;

But his cows never drank any water,
   And his sheep never needed a crook.

For the pasture was gay as a garden,
   And it glowed with a flowery red;
But the meadows had never a grass blade,
  And the brooklet -- it slept in its bed:

And it lay without sparkle or murmur,
   Nor reflected the blue of the skies;
But the music was made by the shepherd,
   And the sparkle was all in his eyes.

Oh, he sang like a bird in the summer!
  And, if sometimes you fancied a bleat,
That, too, was the voice of the shepherd,
  And not of the lambs at his feet.

And the glossy brown cows were so gentle
  That they moved at the touch of his hand
O'er the wonderful, rosy-red meadow,
  And they stood at the word of command.

So he led all his sheep to the pasture,
  And his cows, by the side of the brook;
Though it rained, yet the rain never pattered
  O'er the beautiful way that they took.

And it was not in Fairyland either,
  But a house in the midst of the town,
Where Roy, as he looked from the window,
  Saw the silvery drops trickle down.

For his pasture was only a table,
   With its cover so flowery fair,
And his brooklet was just a green ribbon,
   That his sister had lost from her hair.

And his cows were but glossy horse-chestnuts,
   That had grown on his grandfather's tree;
And his sheep only snowy-white pebbles,
   He had brought from the shore of the sea.

And at length when the shepherd was weary,
   And had taken his milk and his bread,
And his mother had kissed him and tucked him,
   And had bid him "good night" in his bed;

Then there entered his big brother =Walter,
   While the shepherd was soundly asleep,
And he cut up the cows into baskets,
   And to jackstones turned all of the sheep.




=CharlesRose lived in the country with his father, who
taught him to read and to write.
Mr =Rose told his son that, when his morning lessons
were over, he might amuse himself for one hour as he
pleased.
There was a river near by. On its bank stood the hut of a
poor fisherman, who lived by selling fish.
His careful wife kept her wheel going early and late.
They both worked very hard to keep themselves above want.
But they were greatly troubled lest their only son
should never learn to read and to write. They could not teach
him themselves, and they were too poor to send him to
school.
=Charles called at the hut of this fisherman one day, to
inquire about his dog, which was missing.

He found the little boy, whose name was =Joe, sitting by
the table, on which he was making marks with a piece of
chalk. =Charles asked him whether he was drawing pictures.

"No, I am trying to write," said little =Joe, "but I know
only two words. Those I saw upon a sign, and I am trying to
write them."
"If I could only learn to read and write," said he, "I
should be the happiest boy in the world."

"Then I will make you happy," said =Charles. "I am
only a little boy, but I can teach you that.
"My father gives me an hour every day for myself.
Now, if you will try to learn, you shall soon know how to
read and to write."
Both =Joe and his mother were ready to fall on their
knees to thank =Charles. They told him it was what they
wished above all things.
So, on the next day when the hour came, =Charles put
his book in his pocket, and went to teach =Joe. =Joe learned
very fast, and =Charles soon began to teach him how to write.
Some time after, a gentleman called on Mr =Rose, and
asked him if he knew where Charles was. Mr =Rose said that
he was taking a walk, he supposed.
"I am afraid," said the gentleman, "that he does not
always amuse himself thus. I often see him go to the house
of the fisherman. I fear he goes out in their boat."
Mr =Rose was much troubled. He had told =Charles that
he must never venture on the river, and he thought he could
trust him.

The moment the gentleman left, Mr =Rose went in
search of his son. He went to the river, and walked up and
down, in hope of seeing the boat.
Not seeing it, he grew uneasy. He thought =Charles
must have gone a long way off. Unwilling to leave without
learning something of him, he went to the hut.
He put his head in at the window, which was open.
There a pleasant sight met his eyes.
=Charles was at the table, ruling a copybook =Joe was
reading to him, while his mother was spinning in the corner.
=Charles was a little confused. He feared his father
might not be pleased; but he had no need to be uneasy, for
his father was delighted.
The next day, his father took him to town, and gave
him books for himself and =Joe, with writing paper, pens, and
ink.
=Charles was the happiest boy in the world when he
came home. He ran to =Joe, his hands filled with parcels, and
his heart beating with joy.




A merchant, who was very fond of music, was asked by
a poor widow to give her some assistance. Her husband, who
was a musician, had died, and left her very poor indeed.
The merchant saw that the widow and her daughter,
who was with her, were in great
distress. He looked with pity into their pale faces, and was
convinced by their conduct that their sad story was true.
"How much do you want, my good woman," said the
merchant?
"Five dollars will save us," said the poor widow, with
some hesitation.
The merchant sat down at his desk, took a piece of
paper, wrote a few lines on it, and gave it to the widow with
the words, "Take it to the bank you see on the other side of
the street."
The grateful widow and her daughter, without stopping
to read the note, hastened to the bank. The banker at once
counted out fifty dollars instead of five, and passed them to
the widow.
She was amazed when she saw so much money. "Sir,
there is a mistake here," she said. "You have given me fifty
dollars, and I asked for only five."
The banker looked at the note once more, and said,
"The check calls for fifty dollars."
"It is a mistake -- indeed it is," said the widow.
The banker then asked her to wait
a few minutes, while he went to see the merchant who gave
her the note.
"Yes," said the merchant, when he had heard the
banker's story, "I did make a mistake. I wrote fifty instead of
five hundred. Give the poor widow five hundred dollars, for
such honesty is poorly rewarded with even that sum."




One gloomy day, the clock on a church steeple, looking
down on a sundial, said,
"How stupid it is in you to stand there all the while like a
stock!
"You never tell the hour till a bright sun looks forth
from the sky, and gives you leave. I go merrily round, day
and night, in summer and winter the same, without asking
his leave.
"I tell the people the time to rise, to go to dinner, and to
come to church.
"Hark! I am going to strike now; one, two, three, four.
There it is for you. How silly you look! You can say
nothing."
The sun, at that moment, broke forth from behind a
cloud, and showed, by the sundial, that the clock was half an
hour behind the right time.
The boasting clock now held his tongue, and the dial
only smiled at his folly.
MORAL -- Humble modesty is more often right than a
proud and boasting spirit.





=George's mother was very poor. Instead of having
bright, blazing fires in winter, she had nothing to burn but
dry sticks, which =George picked up from under the trees and
hedges.
One fine day in July, she sent =George to the woods,
which were about two miles from the village in which she
lived. He
was to stay there all day, to get as much wood as he could
collect.
It was a bright, sunny day, and =George worked very
hard; so that by the time the
sun was high, he was hot, and wished for a cool place where
he might rest and eat his dinner.
While he hunted about the bank he saw among the moss
some fine, wild strawberries, which were a bright scarlet
with ripeness.
"How good these will be with my bread and butter,"
thought =George; and lining his little cap with leaves, he set
to work eagerly to gather all he could find, and then seated
himself by the brook!
It was a pleasant place, and =George felt happy and
contented. He thought how much his mother would like to
see him there, and to be there herself, instead of in her dark,
close room in the village.
=George thought of all this, and just as he was lifting the
first strawberry to his mouth, he said to himself, "How much
mother would like these;" and he stopped, and put the
strawberry back again.
"Shall I save them for her," said he, thinking how much
they would refresh her, yet still looking at them with a
longing eye?
"I will eat half, and take the other half to her," said he at
last; and he divided them into two heaps. But each heap
looked so small, that he put them together again.
"I will only taste one," thought he; but, as he again
lifted it to his mouth, he saw that he had taken the finest, and
he put it back. "I will keep them all for her,"
said he, and he covered them up nicely, till he should go
home.
When the sun was beginning to sink, =George set out
for home. How happy he felt, then, that he had all his
strawberries for his sick mother. The nearer he came to his
home, the less he wished to taste them.
Just as he had thrown down his wood, he heard his
mother's faint voice calling him from the next room. "Is that
you, =George? I am glad you have come, for I am thirsty, and
am longing for some tea."
=George ran in to her, and joyfully offered his wild
strawberries. "And you saved them for your sick mother, did
you," said she, laying her hand fondly on his head, while the
tears stood in her eyes? "God will bless you for all this, my
child."
Could the eating of the strawberries have given
=George half the happiness he felt at this moment?




"Don't you hate splitting wood," asked =Charlie, as he
sat down on a log to hinder =Rob for a while?
"No, I rather like it. When I get hold of a tough old
fellow, I say, 'See here, now, you think you're the stronger,
and are going to beat me; so I'll split you up into kindling
wood."
"Pshaw!" said =Charlie, laughing; "and it's only a stick
of wood."
"Yes; but you see I pretend it's a lesson, or a tough job
of any kind, and it's nice to conquer it."
"I do not want to conquer such things; I do not care what
becomes of them. I wish I were a man, and a rich one."
"Well, =Charlie, if you live long enough you'll be a man,
without wishing for it; and as for the rich part, I mean to be
that myself."
"You do. How do you expect to get your money? By
sawing wood?"
"May be -- some of it; that's as good a
way as any, so long as it lasts. I do not care how I get rich,
you know, so that it's in an honest and useful way."
"I'd like to sleep over the next ten years, and wake up to
find myself a young man with a splendid education and
plenty of money."
"Humph! I am not sleepy -- a night at a time is enough
for me. I mean to work the next ten years. You see there are
things that you've got to work out -- you can't sleep them out."
"I hate work," said =Charlie, "that is, such work as
sawing and splitting wood, and doing chores. I'd like to do
some big work, like being a clerk in a bank or something of
that sort."
"Wood has to be sawed and split before it can be
burned," said =Rob. "I don't know but I'll be a clerk in a bank
some time; I'm working towards it. I'm keeping father's
accounts for him."
How =Charlie laughed! "I should think that was a long
way from being a bank clerk. I suppose your father sells two
tables and six chairs, some days, doesn't he?"
"Sometimes more than that, and sometimes not so
much," said =Rob, in perfect good humor.
"I didn't say I was a bank clerk now.  I said I was
working towards it. Am I not nearer it by keeping a little bit
of a book than I should be if I didn't keep any book at all?"
"Not a whit -- such things happen," said Charlie, as he
started to go.
Now, which of these boys, do you think, grew up to be
a rich and useful man, and which of them joined a party of
tramps before he was thirty years old?



=Amy was a dear little girl, but she was too apt to waste
time in getting ready to do her tasks, instead of doing them at
once as she ought.
In the village in which she lived, Mr =Thornton kept a
store where he sold fruit of all kinds, including berries in
their season. One day he said to =Amy, whose parents were
quite poor, "Would you like to earn some money? "
"Oh, yes," replied she, "for I want some new shoes, and
papa has no money to buy them with."
"Well, =Amy," said Mr =Thorhton, "I noticed some fine,
ripe blackberries in Mr =Green's pasture today, and he said
that anybody was welcome to them. I will pay you thirteen
cents a quart for all you will pick for me."
=Amy was delighted at the thought of earning some
money; so she ran home to get a basket, intending to go
immediately to pick the berries.
Then she thought she would like to know how much
money she would get if she picked five quarts. With the help
of her slate and pencil, she found out that she would get
sixty-five cents.
"But supposing I should pick a dozen quarts," thought
she, "how much should I earn then?" "Dear me," she said,
after
figuring a while, "I should earn a dollar and fifty-six cents."
=Amy then found out what Mr =Thornton would pay her
for fifty, a hundred, and two hundred quarts. It took her some
time to
do this, and then it was so near dinner time that she had to
stay at home until afternoon.
As soon as dinner was over, she took
her basket and hurried to the pasture. Some boys had been
there before dinner, and all the ripe berries were picked. She
could not find enough to fill a quart measure.
As =Amy went home, she thought of what her teacher
had often told her -- "Do your task at once; then think about
it," for "one doer is worth a hundred dreamers."



Though "No" is a very little word, it is not always easy
to say it; and the not doing so, often causes trouble.
When we are asked to stay away from school, and
spend in idleness or mischief the time which ought to be
spent in study, we should at once say "No."
When we are urged to loiter on our way to school, and
thus be late, and interrupt our teacher and the school, we
should say "No." When some schoolmate wishes us to
whisper or play in the schoolroom, we should say "No."
When we are tempted to use angry or wicked words, we
should remember that the eye of God is always upon us, and
should say "No."
When we have done anything wrong, and are tempted
to conceal it by falsehood, we should say "No, we can not
tell a lie; it is wicked and cowardly."
If we are asked to do anything which we know to be
wrong, we should not fear to say "No."
If we thus learn to say "No," we shall avoid much
trouble, and be always safe.




=JamesSelton was one of the most insolent boys in the
village where he lived. He would rarely pass people in the
street without being guilty of some sort of abuse.
If a person were well dressed he would cry out,
"Dandy!" If a person's clothes were dirty or torn, he would
throw stones at him, and annoy him in every way.
One afternoon, just as the school was dismissed, a
stranger passed through the village. His dress was plain and
somewhat old, but neat and clean. He carried a cane in his
hand, on the end of which was a bundle, and he wore a
broad-brimmed hat.
No sooner did =James see the stranger, than he winked to
his playmates, and said, "Now for some fun!" He then
silently went toward the stranger from behind, and, knocking
off his hat, ran away.
The man turned and saw him, but =James was out of
hearing before he could speak. The stranger put on his hat,
and went on his way. Again did =James approach; but this
time, the man caught him by the arm, and held him fast.
However, he contented himself with looking =James a
moment in the face, and then pushed him from him. No
sooner did the naughty boy find himself free again, than he
began to pelt the stranger with dirt and stones.
But he was much frightened when the "rowdy," as he
foolishly called the man, was struck on the head by a brick,
and badly hurt. All the boys now ran away, and =James
skulked across the fields to his home.
As he drew near the house, his sister =Caroline came out
to meet him, holding up
a beautiful gold chain and some new books for him to see.
She told =James, as fast as she could talk, that their
uncle, who had been away several years, had come home,
and was now in the house; that he had brought beautiful
presents for the whole family; that he had left his carriage at
the tavern, a mile or two off, and walked on foot, so as to
surprise his brother, their father.
She said, that while he was coming through the
village, some wicked boys threw stones at him, and hit him
just over the eye, and that mother had bound up the wound.
"But what makes you look so pale?" asked =Caroline,
changing her tone.
The guilty boy told her that nothing was the matter
with him; and running into the house, he went upstairs into
his chamber. Soon after, he heard his father calling him to
come down. Trembling from head to foot, he obeyed. When
he reached the parlor door, he stood, fearing to enter.
His mother said, "=James, why do you not come in?
You are not usually so bashful. See this beautiful watch,
which your uncle has brought for you."
What a sense of shame did =James now feel! Little
=Caroline seized his arm, and pulled him into the room. But
he hung down his head, and covered his face with his hands.
His uncle went up to him, and kindly taking away his
hands, said, "=James, will you not bid me welcome?" But
quickly starting back, he cried, "Brother, this is not your son.
It is the boy who so shamefully insulted me in the street!"
With surprise and grief did the good father and mother
learn this. His uncle was ready to forgive him, and forget the
injury. But his father would never permit =James to have the
gold watch, nor the beautiful books, which his uncle had
brought for him.
The rest of the children were loaded with presents.
=James was obliged to content himself with seeing them
happy. He never forgot this lesson so long as he lived. It
cured him entirely of his low and insolent manners.




The =Himalayas are the highest mountains on our globe,
They are in =Asia, and separate =India from =Thibet. They
extend in a continuous line for more than a thousand miles.
If you ever ascend one of these mountains from the
plain below, you will have to cross an unhealthy border,
twenty miles in width. It is, in fact, a swamp caused by the
waters overflowing the river banks.
The soil of this swampy border is covered with trees
and shrubs, where the tiger, the elephant, and other animals
find secure retreat. Beyond this border, you will reach
smiling valleys and noble forests.
As you advance onward and upward, you will get
among bolder and more rugged scenes. The sides of the
mountains are very steep, sometimes well wooded to quite a
height, but sometimes quite barren.
In crossing a river you must be content with three ropes
for a bridge. You will find the streets of the towns to be
simply stairs
cut out of the rock, and see the houses rising in tiers.
The pathways into =Thibet, among these mountains, are
mere tracks by the side of
foaming torrents. Often, as you advance, you will find every
trace of the path swept away by the failing of rocks and earth
from above.
Sometimes you will find posts driven into the mountain
side, upon which branches of trees and earth are spread. This
forms a trembling foothold for the traveler.
In the =Andes, in =SouthAmerica, the sure-footed mule is
used to carry travelers. Quite often a chasm must be crossed
that is many feet wide and hundreds of feet deep. The mule
will leap across this chasm, but not until it is sure it can
make a safe jump.
"One day," says a traveler, "I went by the worst pass
over the =Andes Mountains. The path for seventy yards was
very narrow, and at one point it was washed entirely away.
On one side the rock brushed my shoulder, and on the other
side my foot overhung the precipice."
The guide told this man, after he was safely over the
pass, that, to his knowledge, four hundred mules had fallen
over that precipice, and in many instances travelers had lost
their lives at that terrible spot.