him till his owner came up. Mr. Loring looked at the boy, and admired his ruddy, cheerful countenance. "I thank you," said he. "You have caught my horse, and I will pay you for your trouble."

"I want nothing, sir," said the boy. Mr. L. So much the better for you. What is your name?

can say as much.

Few men

"Thomas Hurdle, junior," said the boy. Mr. L. What were you doing in the field? Thomas. I was pulling up weeds, and tending the sheep that are feeding on the turnips.

Mr. L. And do you like this employment?
Thomas. Yes, very well, this fine weather.
Mr. L. But had you not rather play?

Thomas. This is not hard work; it is almost as

good as play.

Mr. L. Who set you to work?

Thomas. My father, sir.

Mr. L. Where does he live?

Thomas. Just by, among the trees, there.

Mr. L. What is his name?

Mr. L. How old are you?

Thomas. I shall be eight next month.

Mr. L. How long have you been out in this field?

Thomas. Ever since six in the morning.
Mr. L. And are not you hungry?

Thomas. Yes, sir; I shall go to my dinner soon.

Mr. L. If you had a dime now, what would you do with it?

Thomas.

I do not know. I never had so much

money in my life.

Mr. L. Have you no playthings?

Thomas. Playthings! what are those?

Mr. L. Such as balls, ninepins, marbles, tops, and wooden horses.

Thomas. No, sir; but my brother makes footballs to kick in the cold weather; and then I have a jumping pole and a pair of stilts to walk through the dirt with. I had a hoop, but it is broken.

Mr. L. And do you want nothing else?

Thomas. No, sir. I have hardly time to play with what I have; for I always ride the horses to the field, and bring up the cows, and run to the town of errands, and that is as good as play, you know.

Mr. L. But you could buy apples or gingerbread at the town, I suppose, if you had money.

Thomas. I can get apples at home; and as for gingerbread, I do not want it, for my mother gives me a pie now and then, and that is as good.

Mr. L. Would not you like a knife to cut sticks?

Thomas. I have one; here it is; my brother gave it to me.

Mr. L. Your shoes are full of holes. Should you like a better pair?

Thomas. I have a better pair for Sundays.

Mr. L. But these let in water.

Thomas. I do not care for that.

Mr. L. Your hat is all torn, too.

Thomas. I have a better one at home; but I had as lief have none at all, for it hurts my head. Mr. L. What do you do when it rains?

Thomas. If it rains very hard, I get under the hedge till it is over.

Mr. L. What do you do when you are hungry, before it is time to go home?

Thomas. I sometimes eat a raw turnip.

Mr. L. But if there are none?

Thomas.

Then I do as well as I can; I work on,

and never think of it.

Mr. L. Are you not dry sometimes this hot weather?

Thomas. Yes; but there is water enough.

Mr. L. Why, my little fellow, you are quite a philosopher!

Thomas. Sir?

Mr. L. I say that you are quite a philosopher; but I am sure that you do not know what that means. Thomas. No, sir, I do not; but no harm, I hope. Mr. L. No, it does not. Well, you seem to want nothing; so I shall not give you money to make you want any thing. But were you ever at school? Thomas. No, sir; but father says I shall go after harvest.

Mr. L. You will want books then.

Thomas. Yes; the boys all have a Spelling Book and a Testament.

Mr. L. Well, then, I will give them to you, because you are a very good boy; and when you go to school, you must make good use of them.

"MAY I go up to the barn, mother, and take Ranger with me, to see the kittens?" said little Arthur Cushing to his mother. "I do not think he I will hurt them."

Arthur was a bright, active boy of seven years, who passed most of the pleasant days in summer with his dog, Ranger, playing about the grounds adjoining his father's house; for Arthur had never been to school.

He liked very much to play upon the hay in the barn; but since the cat had made it the home of her family, and lodged her three little kittens there, his mother did not allow him to go there without her permission. She replied to him now that he might go for a little while, if he would only look at the kittens, and not handle them; but he must not take Ranger, for he would frighten the cat, and perhaps bite her.

Arthur was sorry that as he knew that it was

1 Pron. fẹ-los'o-fer.

Ranger could not go; but useless to tease his mother

2 jūn'y yr. 3 wûd'dn.

when she had once decided a question, he said no more, but started off quite happy.

The path to the barn led by Ranger's kennel; and as Arthur passed along and saw his favorite dog dozing in the sunshine, he could not resist the inclination to stop a moment and pat him on the head. He told him where he was going, and that he should take him with him if mother would only let him. The dog pricked up his ears as if he understood the whole matter, and, when Arthur went on, followed, crouching close behind him.

Arthur knew that the dog was following, and told him, once or twice, to go back; but though he spoke the words, he was naughty enough to feel pleased that Ranger was with him. He went to the barn instead of turning back, as he ought to have done. "I have told him not to go," he said aloud; "and if he keeps with me now, I cannot help it. I have tried to obey my mother."

Arthur knew that he did not speak the truth, and that he had not really done all in his power to obey his mother.

They found the kittens alone, for the cat was away watching for a mouse to take to her little ones. She little knew what company her family was receiving at home during her absence.

Arthur was greatly amused to see the kittens put up their backs and seem so angry, just because old Ranger, as he called him, was looking at them;. and when the dog growled and showed his teeth in return for their unfriendly greeting, Arthur thought