could not sleep. I arose and went to the window. It was a warm, still, summer night; there was no moon, no noise, except the hum of numberless insects. My father and mother were gone away. I put my head out of the window and peeped into the garden.

"A few moments found me creeping down the back stairs. The slightest creaking frightened me. I stopped on every stair to listen. Nancy was busy somewhere else, and John had gone to bed. At last I fairly felt my way to the garden door. It was fastened. It seemed to take me a long while to unlock it, so fearful was I of making a noise. At last I opened it, went out, and latched it after me.

"It was good to get out in the cool night air. I ran down the walk. The patting of my feet made no noise on the moist earth. I stopped a moment and looked all round, then turned in the direction of the pear tree. Presently I was beneath its branches. I cast my eyes to the heavens, and saw a bright star looking down upon me through the leaves. Thou, God, seest me,' escaped from my lips. The star seemed like the eye of God spying me out under the pear tree.

"It was some time before I dared to move, so vivid was the impression made upon my mind by the awful truth in those four words-Thou, God, seest me.' I knew he saw me. I felt that he

saw me.

"I hastened from the pear tree. Nothing on

earth would, at that moment, have tempted me to touch the pear. With very different feelings did I creep back to the bed again. I lay down beside my brother, feeling thankful that I had resisted the temptation."

Children, learn these four small words. Impress them upon your hearts. Think of them when you lie down, when you get up, and when you go by the way when alone, or when with your companions, both at home and abroad, remember-"Thou, God, seest me."

LXV. THE LITTLE GRAVES.

'TWAS autumn, and the leaves were dry,

And rustled on the ground;
And chilly winds went whistling by
With low and pensive sound.

As through the graveyard's lone retreat,
By meditation led,

I walked with slow and cautious feet
Above the sleeping dead,

Three little graves, ranged side by side,
My close attention drew;

O'er two the tall grass, bending, sighed,
And one seemed fresh and new.

As, lingering there, I mused a while
On death's long, dreamless sleep,

And morning life's deceitful smile,
A mourner came to weep.

Her form was bowed, but not with years;
Her words were faint and few;
And on those little graves her tears
Distilled like evening dew.

A prattling boy, some four years old,
Her trembling hand embraced;
And from my heart the tale he told
Will never be effaced.

"Mamma, now you must love me more,

For little sister's dead;

And t' other sister died before,
And brother, too, you said.

"Mamma, what made sweet sister die? She loved me when we played;

You told me, if I would not cry,
You'd show me where she's laid."

""Tis here, my child, that sister lies,
Deep buried in the ground;
No light comes to her little eyes,
And she can hear no sound."

"Mamma, why can't we take her up, And put her in my bed?

I'll feed her from my little сир

And then she won't be dead.

"For sister 'll be afraid to lie
In this dark grave to-night,
And she'll be very cold, and cry
Because there is no light."

"No, sister is not cold, my child, For God, who saw her die,

As he looked down from heaven, and smiled, Called her above the sky.

"And then her spirit quickly fled
To God, by whom 'twas given;
Her body in the ground is dead,
But sister lives in heaven."

"Mamma, won't she be hungry there,
And. want some bread to eat?
And who will give her clothes to wear,
And keep them clean and neat?

"Papa must go and carry some;
I'll send her all I've got;

And he must bring sweet sister home —
Mamma, now must he not?"

"No, my dear child, that cannot be;
But if you're good and true,
You'll one day go to her; but she
Can never come to you."

LXVI.-TEA, COFFEE, SUGAR, AND CHOCOLATE.

TEA is the dried leaves of an evergreen shrub which grows in China, Japan, and Siam. The flower is like that of the wild rose, and its root is like that of the pear tree. It was introduced into Europe by the Dutch in the early part of the seventeenth century.1

The various kinds of teas such as Bohea, Souchong, Hyson, Pekoe do not come from the same plant. Bohea, or black tea, has a flower with six petals, or leaves; and that which produces Hyson, or green tea, has nine. The plants, or shrubs, are in their highest perfection when about three years old.

The leaves, when plucked from the plant, are put into wide, shallow baskets, and placed in the air, or sunshine, during some hours. They are then put on a flat cast-iron pan, over a stove heated with charcoal from a half to three quarters of a pound of leaves being operated upon at one time. These leaves are stirred quickly about with a kind of brush, and are then as quickly swept off the pan into baskets.

The next process is that of rolling, which is effected by carefully rubbing them between the hands; after which they are again put in larger quantities on the pan, and exposed anew to heat; but at this time to a lower degree than at first, and just

1 The seventeenth century is the period from 1600 to 1701.