What wonder his courage had quite given way,
With Granny unable to get up that day?

He sat on the steps where the sunbeams could find him,

His jacket was thin, and the small room behind

Was chill, lacking fire. The poor child sat musing,
Like wise philosophers, like them abusing

The power which to some offers only distresses,
While others less worthy gain fortune's caresses.

His heart grew rebellious, and Granny's good teaching
Was fading away; just as he was reaching

The point where blind fate takes the place of God's will

To the grown, malcontent; to Ned, it was still Just poor folk's bad luck-'twas just then Granny said,

"Why are you so quiet? Come here to me, Ned."

The old voice was feeble; the face was serene
With patience and hope, but the boy's troubled mien
Gave pain to the kind heart.
"Kneel here by my

bed,

And ask the dear Father to send us some bread." "And turkey and jelly?" cried Ned, hungrily, "Ah! just as He pleases that portion must be, But bread He has promised, that promise we plead, And He will feed us who the ravens doth feed."

Ned's petition was o'er, he again sought the sun,
With a crust from the cupboard-alas! the last one.
But now a sweet fragrance pervaded the air;
A fragrance unnoticed before the short prayer,
Attracted by odors that thrilled his starved senses,
He sniffed like a blood-hound, then leaping the
fences

That shut in the farm-house of rich neighbor Moore, Quick gained he the back-yard. The kitchen's wide door

Stood ajar, thus disclosing a glimpse. to the child
Of dinner preparing that set him half wild.
One was beating fresh eggs, one stirring white cake,
While turkey and chicken stood ready to bake,
Pumpkin-pies, rich and spicy, were ranged side by
side,

With an odorous mass in the pudding-bag tied.

While gazing and longing, behold, the Moore geese
Had gathered around him, to capture a piece
Of the crust he still held. He shoved them away
But eagerly still they returned to the fray.

Till, how, who can tell us? one goose most alert Had knocked down and trampled his crust in the dirt.

A cry of despair! All the dinner he had
In a moment was gone, the poor little lad
Fell prone on the ground in a passion of grief;
Too crazed to observe that the prayed-for-relief
Was here at his hand, or that old farmer Moore
Had watched the whole scene from his sitting-room

door.

"Hello! what's the matter!

The goose stole your dinner?

bad!

Come; get up my lad,

Well, now, that's too

You don't mean to say all the dinner you had?
Well, well, which goose was it? That one by the

fence;

He shall pay for it then; and since he's no sense
To restore what he stole, my poor
little man,
Do you just take the goose, and then you can plan
To get back your dinner the best way you can.'

He led the child wondering before Grandma Moore: "This child is half starved, wife, and right at our door:

Thanksgiving to us, yes, but think, can it be
A happy Thanksgiving to poor widow Lee?"

"God forgive me, I pray," the good woman said, "For neglecting the widow and poor little Ned. My joy was so great that I clean, clean forgot The sorrow and hunger about me. For what, With George home from college and Nanny's new baby,

My heart's brimming over with thankfulness. Maybe It's not too late yet.'

Well, before you could ask it

A happy-faced boy and a bountiful basket,

Each filled with the best by dear, kind Grandma Moore,

Were helping each other toward Granny Lee's

door:

'Twas turkey and jelly-but what need to say? "Twas more than Ned dreamed of for Thanksgiving Day,

And we all must admit that Ned was the winner When he ate up the goose to get back his dinner. Mrs. Emma E. Meguire.

BABY'S NAME.

I would like to know the baby's name, if there is one can tell it,

But I haven't seen a person yet, who could begin to

spell it,

I'd like to give the child a present, a fork or spoon, you know,

But it ought to have initials on it, that's what provokes me so,

But its father calls it "Popsy's tarlin," "e'tweetents and e'deary

Mustn't pull e tishes so on Popsy's head e geary." Its mother calls it "Itty amtin." "Peshus ilty teshure

Wassa masser itty vu? Mamma's pitty peshure! "

And all the children call it "Tweet!" "tum to itty buvver!

Nevey mindey, don't e ty, it tan do to muvver!" And all its aunties say it is, "a pessus itty teeter! A itty 'ump of 'ovviness, an nuffin tan be feeter!"

Its grandma says, "Of all e pets in all e wairl so wide;

A is'nt one so dood as iss, so brave and dignified!" Now is there one can tell me what all this gibberish means?

Nothing but nonsense for his pains, is what an uncle gleans,

But if you can tell the baby's name from all that you have heard,

You'll have an uncle's heartfelt thanks if you'll please to send him word.

School-day Magazine.

THE FOURTH OF JULY AT JONESVILLE.

The celebration was held in Josiah's sugarbush, an' I meant to be on the ground in good season; for when I have jobs I dread, I'm for takin 'em_by the forelock, an' graplin' with 'em at once. But as I was bakin' my last plum-puddin' an' chickenpie, the folks begun to stream by. I'd no idee so many folks could be scairt up in Jonesville. Thinks I to myself, I wonder if they'd flock out that way to a prayer-meetin'. But they kep' a comin', all kinds of folks in all kinds of vehicles, from a six horse team, down to peaceable lookin' men an' wimmen drawin' baby-wagons.

There was a stagin' built in 'most the center of the grove for the leadin' men of Jonesville, and some board seats all round it for the folks to set on. As Josiah owned the ground he was invited to set up onto the stagin' an' as I glanced up at that man

every little while throughout the day, thinks I proudly to myself, "There may be nobler lookin' inen there, and men that would weigh more by the steelyards, but there hain't a man there that's got on a whiter shirt bosom than Josiah Allen has.

About noon Prof. Aspire Todd walked slowly into the ground arm-in-arm with the editor of “The Gimlet," old Mr. Bobbet follerin' close behind. As they stepped up onto the stagin' the band struck up "Hail to the chief, that in triumph advances," as soon as it stopped playin' the editor came forrard an' said: "Fellow-citizens of Jonesville, and the adjacent and surroundin' country, I have the honor of introducin' to you the orator of the day-Prof. Aspire Todd, Esq."

Prof. Todd then came forrard and made a low bow: "Brethren and sisters of Jonesville, friends and patrons of Liberty, in mountin' upon this theater I have thereby signified my desire and willingness to address you. I am not here, fellow-citizens, to outrage your feelins' by triflin' remarks. I am not here, male patrons, to lead your noble, and you, female patrons, your tender, footsteps into the flowery fields of useless rhetorical eloquence. I am not here, I trust, in mephitical, and I hope not in a mentorial manner. But I am here to present a few plain truths, in a manner suitable to the most illimitable comprehension. My friends, we are, in one sense, but tennifolious blossoms of life; or if you will pardon the tergiversation, we are all but mineratin' tennirosters hoverin' upon an illinition of mythoplasm." "Jess so!" shouted old Bobbet-who was a settin' on a bench right under the speaker's stand-" Jess so! so we be !

Prof. Todd looked down on him in a troubled kind of a way, an' then went on: "If we are content to moulder out our existence like fibrous reticulated polypus, clingin' to the crustaceous courts of custom, if we cling not like soarin' prytanes to the phantoms that lower their scepters down through the murky