KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



23 



says, " God bless the boy ! — that's worth a dozen 

 sermons ! I'll send a load of wood to little Kate's 

 mother." 



ROSALIE AND HETTY. 



Everybody called Rosalie a beauty. Everybody 

 was right. Her cheeks looked like a ripe peach ; 

 her hair waved over as fair a forehead as ever a 

 zephyr kissed ; her eyes and mouth were as perfect 

 as eyes and mouth could be : no violet was softer 

 or bluer than the one, no rose-bud sweeter than 

 the other. All colors became Rosalie, and what- 

 ever she did was gracefully done. 



Yes ; everybody thought Rosalie was " a 

 beauty." Rosalie thought so herself. So she 

 took no pains to be good, or amiable, or obliging. 

 She never cared about learning anything ; for, she 

 said to herself, I can afford to have my own way ; 

 I can afford to be a dunce if I like ; I shall be 

 always sought and admired for my pretty face. 



So Rosalie dressed as tastefully as she and the 

 dressmaker knew how ; and looked up to show her 

 fine eyes, and down to show her long eye-lashes ; 

 and held up her dress, and hopped over little ima- 

 ginary puddles, to show her pretty feet; and 

 smiled, to show her white teeth ; and danced, to 

 show her fine form ; — and was as brilliant and as 

 brainless as a butterfly. 



Now, I suppose you think that Rosalie was 

 very happy. Not at all ! She was in a perfect 

 fidget lest she should not get all the admiration 

 she wanted. She was torturing herself all the 

 while, for fear some prettier face would come along 

 and eclipse hers. If she went to a party, and 

 every person in the room but one admired her, she 

 would fret herself sick, because that one didn't 

 bow down and worship her. 



Never having studied or read anything, Rosalie 

 could talk nothing but nonsense; so everybody 

 who conversed with her talked nonsense too, and 

 paid her silly compliments ; and-.made her believe 

 that all she needed to make her quite an angel, 

 was a pair of wings ; and then she would hold her 

 pretty head on one side, and simper ; and they 

 would go away laughing in their sleeves, and 

 saying — " What a vain little fool Rosalie is ! " 



Now, Rosalie's cousin Hetty was as plain as a 

 chesnut-bur. She had not a single pretty feature 

 in her face. Nobody ever thought of calling Hetty 

 a beauty, and she knew it ! She was used to be j 

 overlooked ; but she didn't go about whining and 

 making herself unhappy about it, — not she. She 

 just put her mind on something else. She studied 

 and read books, and learned a great many useful 

 things. So she had a great deal in her mind to 

 think of ; and went singing about, as happy as 

 could be, without minding whether anybody 

 noticed her or not. 



So she grew up sweet-tempered, amiable, 

 generous, and happy. When she went into 

 company, strangers would say, " What a plain 

 littleb ody Hetty is !" If they could not find 

 anybody else to talk to, they'd go speak to her. 

 Then Hetty would look up at them with one of 

 her quiet smiles, and commence talking. She 

 would say a great many very sensible things, and 

 some queer ones; and they would listen — and 

 listen — and listen — and by-and-by look at their 

 watch, and wonder what had made time fly so; 

 and then go home, wondering to themselves 



how they could ever call such an agreeable girl as 

 Hetty " homely." 



So, you see, everybody learned to love her, 

 when they found out what a beautiful soul she 

 had. And while Rosalie was pining and fretting 

 herself sick, because her beauty was fading, and 

 her admirers were dropping off, one by one, to 

 flatter prettier faces, Hetty went quietly on her 

 way, winning hearts, and — keeping them, too. 



All hail to Aunt Fanny and her little 

 friends ; and may Fanny's pen never slumber! 

 We want more such writers ; and in their 

 absence we must do double duty. Fanny 

 and ourself were born under one and the 

 same planet. God bless her ! 



The Seasons of the Year. Nelson. 



This is a nice book for youth ; drawing 

 their attention to things useful, and leading 

 their minds up to the contemplation of what 

 is daily going forward in our world. 



Let us select, as being appropriate to the 

 season, an article bearing upon 



the repose of nature. 



The season of Winter is at once the close and 

 the commencement of the year. Like the natural 

 sleep of man, and the night which succeeds to the 

 day, it includes the closing period of rest after 

 labor, and the awakening dawn of refreshment 

 after repose. It is the termination of the past, 

 and the precursor of the future ; and is therefore 

 happily regarded as a transition time for maturing 

 strength, and planning fresh aggressions on the 

 legitimate fields of human toil. It seems, indeed, 

 to the heedless observer, as a lost time ; in which 

 the rigorous season shuts up the husbandman 

 from all the scenes of useful exertion, and compels 

 the laborer to forego his industry. 



But it is not so. We have designated it the 

 repose of nature, and like the natural repose of 

 man, it is the invigorating season on which the 

 successful results of all the other portions of the 

 year depend for the fruits of active and wisely- 

 employed labor. " He casteth forth his ice like 

 morsels ; who can stand before his cold ? He 

 sealeth up the hand of every man, that all men 

 may know his work." The evidences of the 

 power and goodness of the Creator are not, how- 

 ever, the less apparent during the dreary and 

 sterile reign of this, the closing season of the year. 

 " The waters are hid as with a stone, and the 

 face of the deep is frozen ;" but in this, the most 

 remarkable chemical phenomenon of winter, some 

 of the most important and beneficial laws of 

 nature are manifested ; and on its influences de- 

 pend, to a considerable extent, the successful 

 labors of the husbandman in the Spring. 



Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep, 



is not altogether a passive agent in the restoration 

 of the worn-out laborer. While the body reposes, 

 and the mind is chained in healthful inactivity, or 

 dallies with some pleasing fancy in its dreams, 

 the restorative physical operations are busily at 

 work : the blood is circulating through the frame, 

 the lungs are fulfilling their important vital 

 functions, the digestive organs are busy in their 

 appointed task, and the slumberer arises in the 

 morning a new man. 



