Mr. L. Good by, Peter.

B. Good morning, Sir.

Which was the happiest boy-idle Edward, or Peter Hurdle?

EVENINGS AT HOME.

GREECE.

THERE is a fine country in Europe in which there lived, many centuries ago, some philosophers who taught the people. Then, people had no books to read; the art of printing was not known; only a few people could read; there was no paper then; people did not know how to make it. Those who wrote, wrote upon parchment. Parchment is the skin of sheep or goats made white, stiff, thin, and smooth. The drum head is made of parchment. That kind is prepared from the skin of asses. The books written on parchment were kept in rolls as some maps are kept now.

In the country of Greece, a man named Hecademus, left a piece of ground on purpose for a school; upon this spot very beautiful trees were planted, and the philosopher Plato taught his scholars. They walked under the shade of the trees, and listened to Plato's instructions.

The name Academy is taken from Hecademus, the name of the person who gave the land, where Plato's school was. At the same time that Plato lived, lived Diogeness. Diogenes was ill-natured, and lived very meanly. He lived in

what can you do with the water? Can you swim?

R. Not yet. My friend George swims.

F. Suppose you and he were in a boat upon the water together-if the boat should turn over, you would sink to the bottom and be drowned; he would rise like a cork, might reach some safe place, and thus preserve his life.

R. George has been taught to swim, and I have not.

F. It is easy to learn.

R. I should like to know how to swim, but as soon as I put my head under water, it frightens

me.

F. That fear prevents you from learning to swim.

R. I am resolved to learn.

F. Find a safe place to begin at. And learn also to do all those things which you can do, and which will make you wiser, stronger, or better than you now are. And remember, it is foolish to long for things quite out of your power, as the art of flying is.

EVENINGS AT HOME

ROSAMOND.

THE PURPLE JAR.

ROSAMOND, a little girl of seven years old, was walking with her mother in the streets of London. As she passed along she looked in at the windows of different shops, and the saw a great

many different sorts of things, of which she did not know the use, or even the names. She wished to stop to look at them; but there was a great number of people in the streets, and a great many carts, and carriages, and wheelbarrows, and she was afraid to let go her mother's hand.

"Oh! mother, how happy I should be," said she, as she passed a toy shop, "If I had all these pretty things!"

"What all! Do you wish for them all, Rosamond ?"

'Yes, mamma, all." As she spoke, they came to a milliner's shop; the windows were hung with ribbons and lace, and artificial flow

ers.

"Oh mamma, what beautiful flowers; will you buy some of those roses ?"

"No, my dear."

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Why?"

"Because I have no use for them."

It

They went a little further, and came to another shop, which caught Rosamond's eye. was a jeweller's shop, and there were a great many pretty baubles ranged in drawers behind glass.

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Mamma, you will buy some of these?" "Which of them, Rosamond ?"

"Which I cannot tell which ;-but any of them, for they are all pretty."

"Yes, they are all pretty; but of what use would they all be to me?"

"Use!

Oh, I am sure you could find some use or other, if you would only buy them first." "But I would rather find out the use first."

"Well then, mamma, there are buckles: you know buckles are very useful things, very useful things."

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"I have a pair of buckles, I do not want another pair, said her mother, and walked on. Rosamond was very sorry that her mother wanted nothing. Presently, however, they came to a shop which appeared to her far more beautiful than the rest; it was a druggist's shop.

"Oh, mother! Oh!" cried she, pulling her mother's hand; "Look, look, blue, green, red, yellow, and purple! Oh mamma, what beautiful things! will you buy some of these ?"

Still her mother answered as before: "What use would they be of to me, Rosamond ?"

"You might put flowers in them, and they would look so pretty on the chimney piece ;-I wish I had one of them."

"You have a flower-pot," said her mother, "and that is not a flower-pot."

"But I could use it for a flower-pot, mamma, you know."

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Perhaps if you were to see it nearer, if you were to examine it, you might be disappointed." "No, indeed, I am sure I should not;--[ should like it exceedingly."

Rosamond turned her head back to look at the purple jar, till she could see it no longer.

Then, mother," said she, after a pause, "perhaps you have no money."

"Yes, I have."

"Dear, if I had money, I would buy roses, and boxes, and buckles, and purple flower-pots, and every thing."- Rosamond was obliged to stop in the midst of her speech.

"Oh, mamma, would you wait a minute for me, I have got a stone in my shoe, it hurts me very much."

"How comes there to be a stone in your shoe ?"

"Because of this great hole, mamma, it comes in there; my shoes are quite worn out ; I wish you would be so very good as to give ine another pair."

"Nay, Rosamond, but I have not money enough to buy shoes, and flower-pots, and buckles, and boxes, and every thing else."

Rosamond thought that was a great pity. But now her foot, which had been hurt by the stone, began to give her so much pain, that she was obliged to hop every other step, and she could think of nothing else. They came to a shoemaker's shop soon afterwards.

"There! There! mamma, there are shoes; there are little shoes that would just fit me; and you know shoes would be really of use to

me.

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'Yes, so they would, Rosamond.-Come in." She followed her mother into the shop. Mr. Sole, the shoemaker, had a great many customers, and his shop was full, so they were obliged to wait.

"Well, Rosamond," said her mother, "you do not think this shop so pretty as the rest?" "No, not nearly; it is black and dark, and there are nothing but shoes all round; and besides there is a very disagreeable smell."

"That smell is the smell of new leather.""Is it? Oh!" said Rosamond, looking round,