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he said haw and gee. After he had told them, he would then drive them around the yard as fast as possible, calling out, haw or gee, every now and then', according as he wanted them to go to the right or left. But the poor little fellows could not think quick enough, and sometimes they would turn wrong', and sometimes they would pull off different ways', until Jack got out of all patience. At last he was coming up towards a tree, and he called out to them,' haw` haw', HAW, I say`; but the boys went wrong`; and he felt so vexed that he struck at them pretty hard with his whip, while the snapper curled round and struck one of the boys under his eye. He cried aloud with the pain, and his father came out to see what was the matter.

I have not time to tell, now', what his father said', for I have more to say about Jack's impatience. He would not only become vexed with his little brother", but sometimes with mere lifeless things', such as his knife, and his playthings. Once he got punished for it, or rather he punished himself; for, as he was whittling one day, trying to dig out a little boat that he was making', he got out of patience with his knife because it was dull'; and after working and worrying away with it for some time, he threw his boat down, and struck his knife with all his force into the plank on which he was sitting. The knife stuck into the plank`, but the force of the blow shut it up against his fingers', and cut them sadly. He was ashamed to cry', however, so he only held it in cold water until it had done bleeding, and then bound it up himself.

Which is the worst', to get vexed with a knife', or with a little boy'? It is hard to tell. It is, perhaps, the greatest fōlly to get angry with a knife', and the greatest wickedness to be angry with a brother.

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The knife' not only was not to blame, but could not possibly be to blame. Whereas the boy might have been inattentive'; though if he had been, that would have been no excuse for being angry with him', and striking him with a whip.

Boys are very often put out, as they call it', with what they have to play with', but oftener with one another'; and I believe it is generally true, that the boy who does wrong most frequently himself, is most displeased with others when they do wrong. This is absurd enough', but there is one thing more absurd still; and that is that a boy who is most likely to be careless about his tools and playthings', is almost always, when he comes to use them', getting angry with them for being out of order; as though the fault was not entirely in himself. Jack Hasty, for example, will throw his hat down any where', when he comes in', and then when he wants to go out again in a great hurry', he will run all about the house', looking every where', and scolding and fretting, as if he thought his hat ought to go and hang itself up, when he throws it down.

I advise you, Jack Hasty', to go and drive up a nail, in some proper place', and always put your hat on it', and then I présume you will find it there, when you want to go out. So I advise you to have a place for all your things, and keep them in order. When your knife gets dull, sharpen it'; when your wheelborrow is broken, mend it`, and do every thing calmly and patiently', and there will be no occasion for getting out of humor. But, above all', never treat that little brother of yours unkindly. He likes to play with you', and you ought to do all you can to make him happy.

LESSON XXI.

THE YOUNG FLY.

A YOUNG fly was resting with its mother on the wall of a chimney near a kettle where somebody was busy cooking a soup. The old fly, being obliged to leave her daughter on account of other engagements', said to her as she flew away', "my child', you must remain where you are', and not leave your place till I come back."

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'Why not, mamma' ?" asked the little fly.

"Because," said the mother', "I am afraid you will go too near that boiling fountain`," (meaning the soup.)

The Young Fly. What is the reason I must not go near it'?

The Old Fly. dreadful place.

Because you will fall into that

The Young Fly. And why shall I fall in there'? The Old Fly. I cannot explain to you the reason'; you must trust to my experience. Every time that a little fly has approached one of these boiling fountains, from which you see so many vapors rising', I have observed that it always tumbles in', and never gets out again.

The mother, thinking that she had said enough', flew away. But no sooner was she gone', than the little fly began to laugh at her advice. She said to herself"; "These old folks are always so careful`; why does my mother wish to deprive me of the innocent pleasure of flying about a little, near this fountain'? Have I not wings'-and have I not sense enough to keep out of danger'? Indeed, mother', can talk wisely, and I suppose that you like to quote

you

HONEST OLD TRAY.

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your own experience'; but as for me, I am going to amuse myself', flying around this fountain; and I should like very much to see if I can't keep from tum bling in."

So saying, she flew away to the kettle'; but hardly had she approached it', when the suffocating vapor overcame her', and she sunk exhausted into it."Oh!" said she, with her expiring breath', "how unhappy are those children who will not listen to the advice of their mother!"

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OH! don't hurt the dog, poor honest old Tray;
What good will it do you to drive him away'?
Kind usage is justly his right'!

Remember how faithful he is to his charge',
And barks at the rogues when we set him at large',
And guards us by day and by night.

Though you, by and by will grow up to a man',
And Tray is a dôg, let him grow as he ean`;
Remember, my good little lad',

A dog that is honest, and faithful, and mild',
Is not only better than is a bad child',
But better than men' that are bad.

*If you are a boy, and Tray but a beast',

I think it should teach you one lesson at least',-
You ought to act better than he';

And if without reason, or judgment, or sense,
Tray does as we bid him' and gives no offence',
How diligent Richard should be!

If I do but just whistle', as often you've seen`,
He seems to say, "Master', what is it you mean'?
My courage and duty are tried."

And see, when I throw my hat over the pale',
He fetches it back, and comes wagging his tail,
And lays it down close by my side.

Then, honest old Tray', let him sleep at his ease',
While you from him learn to endeavor to please',
And obey me with spirit and joy`;

Or else we shall find', (what would grieve me to say',)
That Richard's no better than honest old Tray`!
And a brute has more sense than a boy !

LESSON XXIII.

MEDDLESOME MATTY.

Он, how one ugly trick has spoiled

The sweetest and the best'!

Matilda, though a pleasant child',
One ugly trick possessed',"

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