THE OLD SLATE.

"I have a great mind to break this stupid old slate," said little Charlie Fidget, one morning, as he sat over his first sum in subtraction.

"Why, what has the poor slate done?" asked the pleasant voice of his sister Helen, behind him.

"Nothing; just what I complain of; it won't do this plaguy sum for me; and here it is almost school-time!"

"What a wicked slate, Charles!"

"So it is. I mean to fling it out of the window and break it to pieces on the stones."

"Will that do your sum, Charlie?"

"No; but if there were no slates in the world, I should have no good-for-nothing sums to do."

"Oh, ho! that does not follow, by any means. Did slates make the science of arithmetic? Would people never have to count or calculate, if there were no slates? You forget pens, lead pencils and paper: you forget all about oral arithmetic, Charlie."

"Well, I don't love to cipher, that's all I know."

"And so, you hasty boy, you get angry with the poor harmless slate, that is so convenient when you make mistakes and want to rub them out again.

Now that is the way with a great many thoughtless, quick-tempered people. They try to find fault with somebody or something else, and get into a pa.s.sion, and perhaps do mischief, when if they would but reflect a little, it is their own dear selves who ought to bear the blame. Now, Charlie, let me see what I can do for you."

So Helen sat down in her mother's great easy-chair; she tried to look grave and dignified, like an old lady, though she was but eighteen.

Charlie came rather unwillingly, laid the slate in her lap, and began to play with the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g on her ap.r.o.n. "Why, what is all this?" said she; "soldiers, and cats, and dogs, and houses with windows of all shapes and sizes!"

Charlie looked foolish. "Oh, the sum is on the other side," said he, turning it over.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Ah, silly boy," said Helen; "here you have been sitting half an hour drawing pictures, instead of trying to do your sum. And now, which do you think ought to be broken, you or the slate?" and she held it up high, as if she meant to strike at him with it.

Charlie looked up, with his hands at his ears, making believe he was frightened, but laughing all the while, for he knew she was only playing with him. Presently, however, she put on a serious face, and said, "Now, my little man, you must go to work in good earnest to make up for lost time."

"Oh, Helen, it wants only twenty minutes to nine; I can't possibly do this sum and get to school by nine. I shall be late. What shall I do?

Miss Fletcher will certainly punish me if it is not done. Can't you, just this once, Helen?"

"No," said Helen.

"Oh, do, there's a dear, good sister; just this once."

"No, Charlie; there would be no kindness in that. You would never learn arithmetic in that way."

"Just once," still pleaded Charlie.

"No," answered Helen, in a kind, but resolute tone: "if I do it once, you will find it harder to be refused to-morrow; you will depend upon me, and sit playing and drawing pictures, instead of ciphering. I will keep you close at it till you perform your task."

So she pa.s.sed her hand gently round him, and though Charlie pouted at first, and could hardly see through his tears, she questioned him about his rule, and then began to show him the proper way to do his sum, yet letting him work it out himself, in such a pleasant manner, that he was soon ashamed of being sullen. First she held the pencil herself, and put down the figures as he told her to do; and then she made him copy the whole, nicely, on another part of the slate, and rub out her figures.

After all this was finished patiently and diligently, Charlie was surprised to find he should still be in good time for school.

"Now, to-morrow, Charlie," said Helen, "don't waste a moment, but go to your lesson at once, whatever it is, and you will find it a great saving, not only of time, but of temper. You won't get into a pa.s.sion with this clever old slate of mine. It went to school with me when I was a little girl, and I should have been sorry if you had broken it for not doing your work. Generally, Charlie, when you see a person fidgety and angry, and complaining of things and people, you may be sure he has either done something he ought not to do, or left undone something he ought to do."

Away ran Charlie to school, thinking to himself, "Well, I suppose I was wrong both ways. I ought not to have been drawing soldiers, and I ought to have been ciphering."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHILDREN.

The early lark, that spreads its wings And mounts the summer air, Obeys its Maker while it sings In morning carols there.

The skilful bee from flower to flower Pursues its nectar'd store, Nor has it instinct, skill or power To please its Maker more.

But children, born with n.o.bler powers, In paths of vice may stray, Or rise to virtue's fragrant bower In realms of endless day.

Then let me shun those wicked ways Which lead to sin and shame, So shall my heart be taught to praise My Lord and Saviour's name.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

LIZZY; A FAIRY TALE.

Lizzy was walking in a wood one day, and as she stooped under a tree to gather some flowers that grew at its foot, she heard a loud tapping high up in the tree; she looked up, and there she saw, clinging to a dead bough that industrious and happy bird, the woodp.e.c.k.e.r. "Are you going to dig out a chamber for yourself there?" asked Lizzy. "That bough is too small, I should think."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Oh! I am not doing carpentry work now," said the bird; "there are some nice little insects under this bark,--sweet things!--which I love as well as you love the lambs."

"And yet you intend to make a meal upon them--barbarous bird!"

"Yes, as good a meal as you make upon the lamb,--barbarous child! But let us forgive each other; we must eat to live. You would love to eat me if I were nicely cooked, and I should relish you exceedingly if I could only change you into a beetle-bug, or a grub of some sort."

"Do not talk so, Mr. Carpenter: I would rather go without my dinner than to have you killed and cooked for me."

"Ah! do you love me so well? Then I will confide in you, and tell you a secret. My chamber is in the trunk of this tree, and my six eggs lie on the floor of it. Jump up here, and I will show it to you."

"I could not jump twenty feet into the air," said Lizzy.

"Why! are you not twenty times longer than I am?"