"I wish you wouldn't. You will feel better if you don't."

But Joe thought he knew best. He went and pulled away the prop, and the wood rattled down the hill. Then he ran away and hid behind a clump of bushes.

After waiting a half hour Joe stole quietly back to see whether the trick had been discovered. He saw old Mr. Jones carrying the wood up the hill and stacking it up as it was before. It was hard work for the old man, for he was not strong. Joe felt ashamed of his mean trick. Just then he saw some one coming up the hill. the hill. It was George. Joe hid behind a tree and wondered what George meant to do.

He soon found out. George went to work with a will and helped the old man stack the wood where it was when Joe scattered it. Joe did not want to be seen. He stole quietly away and went home. Then he began to think.

"George was right," thought he; "it was not fun to make a poor old man so much work for nothing. It was a mean thing to

do. I am sorry I did it. George is the true, manly fellow. He says it is not fun to cause other people pain and loss, and I believe he is right. I am going to tell him so."

And he did tell George. They had a plain, sensible talk, and then Joe went to old Mr. Jones and confessed that he had done wrong, and asked to be forgiven. This the old man gladly did, and Joe grew to be a noble, manly fellow.

LIII. I WOULDN'T.

I wouldn't make fun of a boy who is poor, For he has quite hardships enough to endure; His coat may be ragged, and shabby his hat,

But if he is honest, respect him for that.

"His father's a drunkard;" well, he's not to blame;

Be thankful that your father isn't the same.

I wouldn't make fun of a schoolmate, oh,

no,

If you're at the head, and his place is below;

A diligent scholar, though slowly he climb, May be at the head of his class sometime. Perhaps it would give him a pleasant surprise If you were to help him a bit to be wise.

I wouldn't abuse the dumb animals; they
Are given to us for our service each day;
Nor kill the dear birds, oh, how sweetly they

sing,

When back to our homes they return in the

spring.

God cares for his creatures, the large and the small;

Remember this, boys, and be kind to them all.

I wouldn't make fun of the aged, not I, Perhaps you'll be aged yourself by-and-by ; "Tis better to smile when you happen to meet,

And give them your aid when they're crossing the street;

You'll feel well repaid for the good you have done,

As they thank you and add a "God bless you, my son."

John Harris was a true American boy. He was ten years old. He loved the flag of his country and was especially glad to see it wave on American war vessels. He loved a boat, and was more than pleased to read about the great victory of Dewey at Manila, and of Sampson and Schley at Santiago.

To John it was wonderful to note how well the American sailors and gunners managed the big vessels and the monster guns.

He was also very much pleased with the heroic Hobson's brave deed in Santiago channel. To run the Merrimac under the guns of the enemy, to sink her, and then to swim for life seemed to John wonderfully brave and courageous acts.

Full of patriotic love, he decided to play war with his own little fleet of toy boats. He took them to a large pond in the park, and had them sail across the pond. He called the pond Manila Bay. He called himself Dewey.

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'Now," said he, "look out for your lives! Here I come with my ironclad fleet."

The wind blew his boats across the pond. The Spanish forts on the far shore began to fire upon his fleet. The Spanish forts were bushes on the shore, behind which some boys who played they were Spaniards lay concealed. These Spaniards threw small stones at the boats. These stones were shots from the Spanish forts.

But the brave little Dewey sailed his boats straight up to the forts. Once he thought the gunners on his vessels must be very tired, so he waded in and pulled the boats away from