0 
made from hard wood, as boxwood, or from reeds. 
The blast for them is furnished by the bellows, which 
are worked by gear from the crank, like the barrel. 
The keys resemble those ordinarily used in musical 
instruments. These live parts are packed neatly 
and compactly together In the case, connected pro¬ 
perly, the gearing is arranged, and the result is a 
hand organ ready to delight or torment people, as 
the case may be .—Ntui York Mail. 
’Tie a magical mirror, and dog-cheap if seld—’ 
Quoth this queer-looking chap—‘for its weight In pure 
gold; 
And.when, in a twelvemonth from this, I come back, 
You won’t trade your mirror for all in my pack.' 
Gnlufatiottnl 
LINA AND I.—A TALE OF LOVE 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ALL ABOUT THE OYSTER.-No. Ill 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
EXCITING AN INTEREST. 
I have just read an article in the Rural, with the 
above title, by " F. G.” He very truly says“ The 
first thing to be done in teaching, is to get np an 
interest.” He also says: — To interest the child, is 
to enlighten his mind.” Now, the reverse of this 
proposition is also true. To enlighten the mind of 
the child is to interest him; and here we have, in a 
few words, the 6um of the whole matter. 
Our physical nature requires sustenance, and the 
satisfying of this want is attended with extreme 
enjoyment. So the mind requires food, which is 
knowledge. Our Creator has implanted in the 
mind an intense desire to do, to know, to search 
out hidden things; an insatiable curiosity; and the 
satisfaction of these desires is also attended with 
extreme delight. This principle iB extremely active 
in the child. This is the reason why he ransacks 
the cupboards; scatters the contents of the basket 
and drawer in dire confusion upon the door, much 
to the annoyance of the tidy mother. It is this that 
impels him to tear into pieces the toy dog to find 
what makes it bark; the watch, to find what makes 
it tick. It is this that impels him to ask ten thou¬ 
sand questions, many of which it puzzles us to 
answer, and which make us wonder what could 
have put such thoughts into his mind. 
If the teacher understands how to arouse this 
faculty, aud then to satisfy the desires which are 
awakened, he will succeed in exciting such au inter¬ 
est among his pupils that he will find it necessary to 
restrain, rather than to urge them forward, This he 
can do just so far as he makes his methods of teach¬ 
ing conform to natural laws. The mechanical, stuf¬ 
fing process produces the opposite result. 
I am aware that this faculty is not always appa¬ 
rent, owing to causes which should never exist. 
Raw potatoes and leather chips would not make 
very palatable food, and if we were compelled to 
swallow it doy by day, we Bhould soon become con¬ 
firmed dyspeptics, and should loathe even whole¬ 
some food. So when crude and indigestible food is 
stuffed into the minds of the young, year after year, 
they become mental dyspeptics, hatiDg school, and 
everything connected with it. 
I take the ground that there is no branch of study 
that is not, in itself, sufficiently interesting to incite 
the pupil to vigorous action, if properly presented 
to his mind by the teacher. True, we often hear 
him say, “I hate Arithmetic,” or “I don't like 
Grammar; ” but it is a certain indication that he 
has been taught by methods which do not accord 
with the laws of his mind. He explains the matter 
when he says, “I don't like it because I don't see 
into it.” Now let a teacher who understands how 
to make his educational processes conform to the 
laws of mind, take him in hand, and he will soon be 
heard to say, “ I like Grammar,” or " I like Arith¬ 
metic ; ” and in the same breath will give the rea¬ 
son— “because I can see into it now.” And he 
PROPAGATION, 
With the kuown fecundity of the oyster, it will 
be seen that if the floating spats cau be protected 
against the accidents which are incident to the 
period immediately succeeding their expulsion from 
the parent's mantle, their propagation may be car- 
Scientific investigations have 
Pat has long labored under the imputation of 
making more accidents with the tongue than any of 
his fellow mortals; but it can be very easily shown 
that the “bull” is not necessarily indigenous to 
Irish soil. 
A Frenchman named Calion, who died in Paris not 
many years ago, was remarkable for a bovine ten¬ 
dency. There is a letter of his in existence, as fol¬ 
lows :— “ My dear friend—I left my knife at your 
lodgings yesterday. Pray send it to me if you find 
it. Yours, Calion. P. 8.—Never mind sending the 
knife; I have found it.” 
There is a note to his wife which he sent home 
with a basket of provisions, the postscript to which 
read:—“You will find my letter at the bottom of 
the basket; if you should fail to do so, let me know 
as soon as possible.” 
It is said of the same character that on one occa¬ 
sion he took a lighted taper to find his way down 
stairs, aud, after getting down, brought it back with 
thanks, leaving himself at the top of the stairs in 
the dark, as at first. 
It was a Scotch woman who said that the butcher 
of her town only killed half a beast at a time. 
At a prayer meeting in New Hampshire, a worthy 
layman spoke of a poor boy whose father was a 
drunkard, and whose mother was a widow. 
At a negro ball, in lieu of “ Not transferable” on f’ 
the tickets, a notice was posted over the door, “ No 
gentleman admitted unless he comes hisself.” jL 
And it was an American lecturer of note who sol- % 
emnly said one evening, "Parents, you may have * 
children, or if you have not, your daughters may 
have.” 
ried to any extent, 
demonstrated the fact that these young oysters must 
find a lodgment on Borne permanent substance, 
such as rocks or wood, within forty-eight hours after 
they have left the parent, or they will die. To lodge 
upon the mud or sand is death. Clear waters and a 
rocky bottom are necessary to life and thrift in their 
earliest stage of existence; muddy waters are neces¬ 
sary to successful feeding and fattening; hence, arti¬ 
ficial aid is indispensable to the extensive propaga¬ 
tion, and their after-growth and preparation for 
market. 
To preserve the young oyster many devices have 
been invented and adopted. A very simple and 
cheap one, adopted in the vicinity of New York, is 
to take the emptied oyster slreLls and scatter them 
in suitable aquatic localities, and in one year after¬ 
wards oysters of a moderate market size may be 
obtained therefrom. But the French are decidedly 
in advance of ns in the invention of methods to se¬ 
cure and preserve the spats in these latter times. 
They obtained the suggestion for operation in this 
wi6e:—Their Government, years ago, sent off M. 
Costa on a rambling permit south, even as far as 
the shores of Italy, to inquire m to this very science, 
of not only the oyster, but of the fish culture. In 
prosecuting his Inquiries he found that the Romans, 
centuries ago, understood and practiced the trae 
method of propagating and growing oysters. They 
exemplified their knowledge and skill in the matter 
on an extensive scale, and he found that not only 
the evidences of their operations were still to be 
seen, but that the operations were still continued in 
these days, in the establishment at Lake Fusaro, 
(Lake Avemus,) the little lake tnus named in the 
crater of an extinct volcano, and used as an oyster 
farm. But whilst he was at this lake, prying into 
the oyster cultivating skill of the old Romans, 
there descended, to the present time, it is proper 
to remark, that a simple stone mason at the Isle 
of Re, in the Bay of Biscay, reasoned the plan I 
out to himself, and laid down a wall of stone, 
inclosing a small area of the foreshore, and cleaned 
out the mud so that the spats might be secured. 
While the mason was pursuing his work it was ridi¬ 
culed by his neighbors as a childish vagary. His 
idea, however, proved a success, and was adopted 
by the people of the island. The first farm on the 
foreshore was laid down in 1858, and now the whole 
foreshore of that island is occupied by them. The 
same principle is observed in the cultivation of oys¬ 
ters now, on the coast of Frauce, generally, but 
there fascines are attached to poles over the beds to 
catch the flatsums, and they do it most effectually 
and protect them against the assaults of the angry 
ocean. 
GROWTH. 
This is said to be slow, and that at the end of six 
months from its leaving the parent, the oyster is no 
larger thau a half dollar, and only twice that size at 
the end of the year. In fav^iblf locations, as has 
been seen elsewhere, howev‘7i', they are lit for the 
market at the end of the year. They obtain full 
size in from five to seven years. 
THE OYSTER SEASON. 
This embraces the cool jiortiou of the year, say 
from November to March inclusive, when the oys¬ 
ters can be handled aud transported long distances 
to market, with ordinary care, without spoiling. 
In the country at large it can scarcely be said to 
commence before the first ol November and ends 
about the first of April. It is varied somewhat by 
the season: il that is cool it may begin earlier or 
continue a little later. During the busy season in 
praiseworthy girls, these days,—sewing all day and visit¬ 
ing all the evening. And yon, Cousin Doha, are one of 
the busiest of ns. Lina said she would keep that fine 
embroidery you worked for her a great many years, for it 
was as fine as some of the lace-work.” This was very 
true. Cousin Dora’s talent was a nimble, eif-like skill 
with her needle, “I don’t see,” I continued, “how you 
have the patience for it.” 
“That is what Charlie used to say,” she rejoined. 
“ By the way, Cousin Roth, don’t you think Mr. ninL8 
has a great, resemblance to Charlie f” 
“How do / know,” I said, smiling. “You know I 
never saw—” 
*' Oh. no; how forgetful I am 1 But he is like him,— 
very like him. Every time I see Mr. Hills I find some 
new point of resemblance.” 
Mightily amazed, T resolved to lead her on, and see 
how far she -would, go. 
“Bat 1 thought, Cousin, you said that Mr. Charles 
Hills was fair and had blue eyes. Our Mr. Hills here 
has dark hair and eyes.” 
“ But he has such a fair complexion 1 Did you notice. 
Cousin, when lie came up the hill this evening how the 
air had made his cheeks look like a pretty girl’s?'' She 
glanced in the glass at her own. 
“Do jou think, then, he Is feminine looking?” 
“ Oh, no. Cousin ; do you? I was only speaking of Ms 
complexion. 1 navn’t eeen such handsome wMskera as 
Ms since 1 left home; but, then, to be sure, he’s not long 
from New York.” 
“No," 1 assented, “and then, too, this Mr. Hills is a 
distant relative, I believe yon said, of—” 
“Of Charlie’s,” she interrupted, speaking quickly; 
“yes, that, is what first drew me to Mm. And now, 
Consin Rotii, 1 may as well own to you —Hove Mr. 
Hills. He is daily becoming more and more dear to me. 
Every look of his eyes —so like Charlie’s — makes me 
tremble; every sound of hts voice makes my heart 
qniver, for it seems as though the dead spoke to me.” 
“I wonder,” thought I, “If she ever read that in a 
Ledger novel.” A few tears would have been very ap¬ 
propriate just then, hut she felt most too cheerful and 
light-hearted to manufacture them. 
“Cousin.” she continued, “I think he loves me; but 
either is not yet aware of It himself, or is diffident about 
addressing me.” 
“There has been such a short acquaintance,” I sug¬ 
gested. " Give him time.” 
“Yes, to be sure." She felt so hopeful that her eye¬ 
lids, curls aud countenance seemed elevated several de¬ 
grees. “It stands to reason he should love me, sooner 
or later. I am the same girl Cuarlie loved; he’s very 
like Charlie ; why should he not love the same person?” 
“ I see no flaw In your reasoning,” I replied. 
“No,” she said; “if I come out here grieving for my 
lost love, and his cousin and friend — closely resembling 
himself — sees me and loves me, isn't that a romance of 
real life ?’’ 
She began to roll her ringlets up on her fingers. As 
she looked in the glass she saw herself blush, but that 
did not prevent her saying what she did: 
“Consin Roth, seriously, now, tell me;—if you loved 
a man, and yoa was very certain he loved you, but yon 
saw he was diffident in approaching you, — perhaps 
thought you were superior to him in rank or station, 
though you felt you were not, — for what is money com¬ 
pared to intellect? Cousin Roth, (she looked in the 
glass at a face dyed crimson,) if he didn’t dare to declare 
Me affection for you, would you think it unmaidenly, 
indelicate, to show,—perhaps, finally, to tell,—your love 
for him?" 
“It would simply be an impossibility for me,” I re¬ 
plied. “I couldn't do it." 
“But, Cousin,” she rejoined, “you could, you would 
do many things before you would suffer twice over what 
I have suffered.” 
“ Perhaps so. You would be sorry for it afterwards, 
though, Cousin Dora,— sorry and ashamed.” 
"Not if he took me for his own,— I would be too 
happy." 
“ But if he refused you ? — what then ? 
Cousin.” 
“Ah, but he wouldn't. A New York gentleman never 
would so wound a lady; they are not bo blunt and plain 
as the Pittshurgera.” 
"Maybenot so honest," I added. 
“Oh, yes, Cousin, a real New-Yorker is the soul of 
chivalry and houor. Mr. Hills, for instance,—do you 
think he would slight a poor, lonely girl’s love, and 
double her sorrow V' 
" But,” I urged, “ he doesn’t know what you have un¬ 
dergone.” 
"He knows I was engaged to Charlie, and that he is 
dead. I can tell him something of what I have endured; 
Consin Ruth,” — she looked at me with a firm, settled 
purpose in her face, and spoke with a slow emphasis,— 
“ if that young man does not love and marry me, 1 must 
die of an overcharged heart!” 
“ Well, good night,” I said. “ I hope, Cousin, you will 
come safely through all your troubles; you have a great 
many for one so young.” 
" Ah, have I not T' she rejoined. “ Good night.” 
I didn’t go to my room just then. Lisa might not yet 
be asleep, aud I must he alone somewhere a few moments 
to give vent to various suppressed emotions, mirth be¬ 
ing the predominant one. The reader knows I was, in 
honor, bound to secrecy as to the cause; so I slipped off 
my shoes, slipped softly down stairs, along the hall, aud 
into the dining-room, and finding it, as well as the 
kitchen, deserted, — everybody gone to bed, - there sat 
down exhausted, and laughed Mil my head aud sides 
ached. “ Well,” I said to myself, " this caps the climax 1 
And she doesn't know that he has waited npon me for 
over six months, and would ask me to marry him any 
moment if I would let him,—will probably ask me on the 
top of Coal Hill Saturday if I am not very watchful. 
Aud she doesn’t see, — but Love is blind, to be sure, — a 
hundred little things she might see. Well, ‘ the plot 
tMekens;’ we are in the midst of a drama. Am I to be 
the heroine, or is the ? Will It he a comedy or a tragedy ? 
If she should ask him! What would he say? What 
couhl he say?" 
Reader, just here a little sMver ran over me. A little 
golf opened at my feet; hut, looking into it, I began seri¬ 
ously to fear that it might be large enough to swalloxv 
me up. “ What if my silly, sentimental cousin should 
really ask Mr. Hjlls to many her ?” I mentally interro¬ 
gated. "He might come, in time, to admire and like 
this pretty, lack a-daisicai laay. He might, in his strong 
, manhood, pity this poor, frail, little girl, who had thrown 
! herself upon Ms compassion. Then, ’pity is akin to 
\ love.’ Moreover, wouldn't his gallantry, cMvalry, —all 
his loyal manhood, — be appealed to? Could he honora¬ 
bly retreat? Well —again—what of all this?—what is 
1 it to me ? Absolutely nothing. He hua been very atten- 
y live, —almost a lover, indeed; that is all. 8o have 
I others as good as he. I shall be sorry, though, for him, 
poor fellow 1 If I And her almost insufferable for a month 
/ or two, what would a life-time be ?” 
f I quietly returned to the bed-room, as quietly disrobed 
f- myself, and was soon dreaming,—[To be continued. 
“ ‘ You’ll not think me rude now, my sweet little miss, 
When 1 tell you your imago, reflected in this, 
Will grow, day by day, still more charming and clear, 
If you gaze on It faithfully till the new year 
In the way I diroct, thus .-—Whene'er it appears 
You have cause to inflame those soft eyelids with tears 
Whene'er by a frown yon shall wrinkle that brow, 
Or pout those red Ups, as you're doing just now; 
Whene'er to be sullen or sad you incline, 
Just take a long look in this illirror of mine. 
And I’ll forfeit my pack, at the end of the year, 
If your image don't prove yon a beauty, my dear 1’ 
The roads in St. James Park, London, are now W) 
being formed by the aid of a powerful steam roller. 
The ground is first picked up, then covered with 
broken granite and top-dressiDg of sand. The whole ||^ 
is then thoroughly wetted, and an immense roller 
propelled by steam is driven slowly over the road, 
giving a pressure of nearly thirty tons, until it be¬ 
comes a smooth, compact mass. This makes a real 
macadamized road. And no road that Ib not thor¬ 
oughly rolled while wet deserves the name of Mac 
Adam. How unlike this is the process of making 
streets and roads in this vicinity. A street is picked 
up a little, a few loads of broken stone are dumped 
and leveled off, and the work is done. So far as the 
roadmakers are concerned the remainder is done by 
the passing carriages and teams, which in time, after 
much swearing and cursing by the drivers, grind the 
street mto ridges aud holes which every day’s travel 
makes larger, until the time comes round for pick¬ 
ing up and stoning down and grinding up the street 
And so it goes on forever—forever spending 
VII. 
"Then the peddler, he shouldered Me pack and went out, 
And Ugly Mug looked in the glass, with a pout, 
Till the image she saw seemed so funny and strange 
That she laughed — aud behold! what a magical change! 
The cross-looking face iu an instant was gone, 
And a gay little visage smiled into her own— 
The visage of such a bright-eyed little elf, 
That Ugly Mng felt quite ashamed of herself. 
So she vowed ehe would do as the peddler had said, 
And she carried the glass, quite delighted, tg bed. 
VII i. 
“Well,” said Grandmother Grigg, “when the twelve- 
month went by, 
And the time was at hand for the old year to die, 
The odd-looking peddler came trudging again 
By Ugly Mug’s window, and glanced at the pane; 
But no Ugly Mug did the peddler heboid, 
But a very Bwret face set in ringlets of gold; 
And up flew Ihe sash, and a silvery voice 
Cried, * Come in, sir peddler, and show me the choice 
Of all in yonr pack, for the glass that you sold 
Is cheap at its weight in the purest of gold.' 
again, 
money and never getting a good roadway for all the 
expenditures. 
UGLY MUG AND HER MAGICAL GLASS, 
Grandmother Griso was a jolly old dame, 
Ab merry as ever a grig of her name; 
Her little eyes sparkled from under her cap, 
And she bit off t he ends of her words with a snap. 
Her nose was on intimate terms with her chin, 
And the things she loved most were to chatter and spin, p 
When she gathered her grandchildren close by her knees, fi¬ 
ller wheel and her tongue both were busy as bees; mi 
The flax ehe used up was a sight to behold, MS 
But more wonderful still were the stories she told. 
mind into vigorous action; and when this is done, 
the process is rather intellectual than mechanical. 
I have known young children, reading from their 
letters, to become so highly interested that they 
were almost beside themselves. I have also known 
others to become so much interested in learning the 
rudiments of arithmetic and grammar that their, 
lessons were not out of their minds day or night, 
and the teacher was obliged to check them, much 
agaiast their inclinations. 
Now these children were interested because they 
were taught in such a manner that ideas were clearly 
impressed at every step, and by this means such an 
appetite was created that it was impossible to satisfy 
it. And this would always he the case, if the meth¬ 
ods pursued in our schools were adapted to the 
nature and laws of mind. Then i would say, to 
create an interest in school, first, excite in the mind 
of the pupil a strong desire to know, then satisfy 
that desire by impressing upon it the idea clearly, 
at the same time leading him,.as far as possible, to 
discover the idea for himself,— and it is done. 
Bonny Hill, N. Y., Sept., 1868. c. 3. n. 
One night—’twas the night before Christmas—there came 1® 
A clamorous crowd to this jolly old dame, 
Who begged her—before they were packed off to bed— \ 
To tell them a story “all out of her head:” 
Not OBe of the tales from her regular store, 
But a story they said they had ne’er heard before. 
“Hoi ho! something new, eh?" quoth Grandmother 
Grigg. 
“ Very well, chits! sit down, till my spindle I rig, 
Aud I’ll tell you the queer t hings that once came to pass 
Between Miss Ugly Mng, and her wonJerlul glass.” 
think of that, 
“ So the peddler came in, and ‘I knew it!’ cried he, 
‘ You’re as pretty, my dear, now, as pretty can he 1 
An ri the face that I saw, when I called here before, 
Will never be ecen in this glass any more!’ 
Then he sold her a doll with magnificent curls, 
Aud a dress of rich silk, and a necklace of pearls, 
And he said lie had hoped she this doll would prefer, 
And so ha had kept it on purpose for her, 
But the glass, as no longer of use, he took back, 
* It was handy,’ he said, ‘ for to have in Ms pack.’ 
FINAL. , 
" Now,” said Grandmother Grigg, “ it is bed-time, yon 
know, 
And I’ve only one word to say ere yon go. 
There’s a magical glass that can always be had. 
To show little folks hovwthey look when they’re bad; 
And when any of you, dears, feel willing to try, 
Of Grandmother Grigg such a glass you may buy; 
All the payment she asgs, is a kiss and a hug. 
And the promise to a.-e il like Miss Ugly Mug 1” 
C. D. Gardette. 
[“Our Schoolday Visitor,” from wMch we copy the 
above amusing and instructive poem, is a very excellent 
and popular magazine for the young. -Judging from the 
pleasure our pair-ol-stairs of little folks derive from its 
pages, wo are confident it will prove a treasure in every 
family comprising javeniies. We therefore commend 
the Visitor to all parents and teachers, referring to adver¬ 
tisement on oar last page for terms, etc.— Ed. R. N. Y.] 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A TEACHER’S OPINIONS-No. HI, 
Every teacher has his preferences among text 
books. So great are these preferences, and so 
peculiar, that what some abominate others consider 
the desideratum. Those who do net make teaching 
a profession,— but a place in which to “ wait for 
something to turn up” more agreeable and lucra¬ 
tive,—are. very careless concerning text books, and 
disgrace the profession. 
Nearly every text book has some peculiar, leading 
idea, that is its cause for demanding popular atten¬ 
tion; and some of tbcm are worthy of special re¬ 
gard. But it is a fact, that every new text book is 
not necessarily an improvement on its predecessors; 
often an attempted improvement is a positive dis¬ 
regard of pleasure and profit. Thus we find in a 
very worthy series of arithmetics the system of 
Metric introduced. 
The only establishment in this hemisphere where I 
these music machines are made is situated in this 
city, at the corner of Chatham street and New 
Bowery. Up three pairs of stairs, through a hos¬ 
pitably open door, and we ecter a large room piled 
with hand organs, in youth, wearied middle age, or 
second childhood, where several men are busily at 
work. Here is manufactured, except the iron work, 
made to order at Westmoreland, N. Y., every part 
Of the hand organ, which is well defined by its name. 
It is merely an. organ arranged to play automatically 
from a rotary motion—if you like that better. Its 
parts are the pipes, arranged vertically in the front, 
the barrel, placed at the top and back, the keys, 
vertical between the two, tue bellows under the 
barrel, and the grinding and shifting gear at the 
hi. 
“ Ugly Mug l What a name 1” all the little ones cried. 
“ ’Twas a nickname, my dears t” the old grandame replied. 
" This miss, when asleep, was qMte pretty to see, 
But awake, she was ugly as ugly could be; 
And this just because miss was Bubject to fits 
Of the sulieus, aud pouts, and wry faces, my cMts. 
These so altered her pleasant expression, that folk 
Called her Miss Ugly Mug, just by way of a joke; 
And, I think, had you seen her in one of her ‘ queers,’ 
You’d have found it a very apt nickname, my dears. 
IV. 
“Now it happened one day—’twas the last of the year— 
A sirange-looking peddler the window drew near, 
And saw through the pane such a face that, good lack 1 
lie jumped, anil came very near dropping his pack; 
But the very next moment, he tapped at the door, 
And asked madam 1 3 leave- to exhibit his store. 
He spread out his wares on the door of tho hall, 
And said he was sure he could pleasure them all. 
He could fit both the maids aad the mistress, he knew, 
And something would suit little Pretty Face, top. 
However desirable on certain 
grounds the Metric Bystem may be, the terms used 
therein, together with its abrogation of other sys¬ 
tems so fully, now in use aud considered good, will 
put far off the day when its use will be general, 
and therefore arithmetics urging a recognizance of 
credit on this account will prove a failure. Just so 
with grammars. Simplicity in grammars should be 
aimed at before all else. Oral teaching of gram¬ 
mar is the far more successful method, but few 
teachers are willing to exert themselves sufficiently 
to teach grammar orally; therefore, text books 
should imitate the conversational system to meet 
successfully public approbation. 
I have examined pretty thoroughly many arith¬ 
metics, and find much to admire in depth, but not 
an improvement (with one exception) Ih simplicity 
of style over the Huger of our “auld laug syne." 
The exception is now issued by the Harpers. I 
have uo prejudices; I desire no particular credit to 
be attached to this or that text book because of my 
opinion. I only wish there were fewer text books, 
while the good properties of many were combined 
iu one, which had no feature in it exceptional to 
fair, disinterested minds. Samol. 
Wr have rarely seen a simple child story that 
more touched us than the following which we find 
in an exchange: 
<< This is my home l” cried a little one, a treasur¬ 
ed boy of four summers, as fresh and rosy he came 
from school at the close of a short winter’s afternoon. 
"Indeed, little Willie,” said his father, "how is 
it ? Suppose you go out on the sidewalk, and try at 
the next door; suppose you step into the entry, 
throw off your little sack as you have here, and go to 
the parlor, would not that be your home?” 
“ No indeed,” said Willie, “ it would not be.” 
" But tell me, why not?” 
Willie had never thought of thia. He paused a 
moment, then directing his eyes to where his moth¬ 
er quietly sat sewing, he replied, with an earnest 
gesture, “ She lives here.” 
“ Ugly Mug, at this flattery, smirked with delight, 
And her eyes grew as large as an owl’s in the night, 
Till the peddler with motion provokingly slow, 
Brought forth a small glass, worth a sixpence or so, 
Aud holding it up‘Now, my sweet little friend, 
If yon mind my directions, yon’ll find in the end 
