Chapter I (2)

AN EASTERN OFFERING.――The three sons of an eastern lady were invited to furnish her with an expression of their love, before she went a long journey. One brought a marble tablet with the inscription of her name; another presented her with a rich garland of flowers; the third entered her presence, and thus accosted her: “Mother, I have neither marble tablet nor fragrant nosegay, but I have a heart; here your name is engraved, here your memory is precious, and this heart full of affection will follow you wherever you travel, and remain with you wherever you repose.”

* * * * *

GEORGE III.――In the prayer book of his Majesty, King George III., where the worshippers implore the Almighty to bless and preserve “thy servant George, our most gracious king and governor,” these words were struck out, and the following written with his own hand: “thy servant George, an unworthy sinner.”

* * * * *

BISHOP HEBER.――When bishop Heber was seven years old, a party of his young companions were amusing themselves with riddles and cross questions. Reginald was asked this question: “Where was Moses when his candle went out?” “On mount Nebo,” was his immediate reply; “for there he died, and it may well be said that his lamp of life went out.”

* * * * *

TALKING TOO MUCH.――The Rev. John Berridge was once visited by a very talkative young lady, who engrossed all the conversation in speaking of mere trifles. When she rose to retire, he said, “Young lady, I have one piece of advice to offer you; when you go into company again, after you have talked half an hour without intermission, stop awhile, and see if any one of the company has anything to say.”

* * * * *

THE EMPEROR ADRIAN.――It is commonly said, that “revenge is sweet;” but it can only be so to weak minds that are incapable of bearing an injury. An elevated mind is superior to injuries, and pardons them. The Emperor Adrian, meeting a man who had insulted him before he came to the government, said to him, “Approach; you have nothing to fear; I am an emperor.” This is an example well worthy of being imitated by those who are called to return good for evil.

* * * * *

PETER THE GREAT OF RUSSIA.――As Peter the Great, of Russia, was travelling through a village in France, he saw in a garden, belonging to a parsonage, a man in a priest’s garment, with a spade in his hand, digging hard at some beds of vegetables.

The Czar, much pleased at the sight, alighted, and asked him who he was. “Sir,” answered the man, “I am the clergyman of the village.” “I took you for a gardener. Why are you employed in this manner?”

“The revenues of my living being but very moderate, I do not choose to be an expense to my parishioners, but wish rather to have it in my power to assist them; they respect me the more, when they see, that, to procure myself some of the conveniences of life, I improve this garden; and in this humble occupation I spend as much of my time as the duties of my ministry will allow.”

“You are an honest man,” replied the Czar, “and I esteem you the more for thinking and acting in this manner; tell me your name.” He drew out his tablets, and wrote down the name of the worthy clergyman; and after telling him who he himself was, and giving him many proofs of kindness, he took leave of him and returned to his carriage.

When he went back to Moscow, he did not forget this scene, and endeavored to induce the priests in his empire to imitate so virtuous an example.

* * * * *

ALEXANDER THE GREAT.――Alexander the Great, on being asked how he had been able, at so early an age and in so short a period, to conquer such vast regions, and establish so great a name, replied, “I used my enemies so well, that I compelled them to be my friends; and I treated my friends with such constant regard, that they were unalterably attached to me.” He once degraded an officer of distinction, by removing him to an inferior situation. Some time after, he asked the officer how he liked his new office. “It is not the station,” said the officer, “which gives consequence to the man, but the man to the station. No situation can be so trifling, as not to require wisdom and virtue in the performance of its duties.”

The monarch was so pleased with this answer, that he restored him to his former rank.

* * * * *

AN ARMENIAN PRINCE.――The historian Xenophon relates, that when Cyrus had taken captive a young prince of Armenia, together with his young and blooming wife, of whom he was remarkably fond, they were brought before the tribunal of Cyrus to receive their sentence. The warrior inquired of the prince what he would give to be reinstated in his kingdom; and he replied, that he valued his crown and his liberty at a very low rate, but that if the noble conqueror would restore his beloved wife to her former dignity and possessions, he would willingly pay his life for the purchase.

The prisoners were dismissed, to enjoy their freedom and former honors; and each was lavish in praise of the conqueror. “And you,” said the prince, addressing his wife, “what think you of Cyrus?” “I did not observe him,” she replied. “Not observe him!” exclaimed her husband; “upon whom, then was your attention fixed?” “Upon that dear and generous man,” she replied, “who declared his readiness to purchase my liberty at the expense of his life.”

* * * * *

A FEMALE SLAVE.――The late Rev. Richard Watson, in his defence of missions, states, that a master of slaves, who lived near the Methodist chapel, in Kingston, Jamaica, exercised his barbarities on a Sabbath morning, and interrupted the devotion of those who were assembled for worship. This man wanted money; and one of the female slaves having two female children, he sold one of them, and the child was torn from her maternal embrace. In the agony of her feelings she made a hideous howling, and for that crime, was flogged. Soon after, he sold her other child. This “turned her heart within her,” and drove her into a kind of madness. She howled night and day, in the yard; tore her hair; ran up and down the streets and the parade, rending the heavens with her cries, and literally watering the earth with her tears. Her constant cry was, “Da wicked massa Jew, he sell my children. Will no buckra massa pity neger? What me do? Me no have one child!” As she stood before the window of the missionary’s house, she said, lifting up her hands towards heaven, “My massa, do, my massa minister, do pity me! My heart do so,” shaking herself violently; “my heart do so, because me have no child. Me go to massa house, in massa yard, and in my hut, and me no see ’em.” And then her cry went up to God!

Shops in London.

The shops in London surpass everything of the kind in the world. We do not speak now of the arcades and bazaars, where a whole village of shopkeepers are associated together under one vast roof, but of single shops situated upon the streets.

We give a picture above, of one of the shops of Ludgate Hill, and there are others of equal magnificence in other parts of London. The rooms in these establishments are of great extent, and fitted up in the most elegant and imposing style. At the front, are windows with plates of glass eight or ten feet in length, and of proportional width; the sashes are of polished brass. The doors are of the richest mahogany, and the entrance is altogether in the most sumptuous style.

Within, the shop presents a scene like fairy land. Splendid mirrors are so arranged as to multiply the columns of the room, and throw a long vista before the eye of the beholder: at the same time, the richest and most gorgeous of merchandises are displayed on all sides, so as to strike the eye, and add to the effect produced by the mirrors. When the shop is filled with well-dressed ladies, as is usually the case from ten in the morning till three in the afternoon, there is a bewildering splendor about the scene, and one might almost fancy, that a species of fascination, calculated to make the customer an easy prey to the shopkeeper, is at once the object and the end of these devices.

The wealth displayed in the shops of London is suitable to the metropolis of the world. In one you see heaps of silks, of the richest and most splendid patterns; and if you pause to note their infinite variety, you become at last surfeited and sickened with mere luxury. In another shop you see every species of jewelry――and rubies, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, cameos, and intaglios, are so rife, that you pass on, content that they are not yours.

You come to a window, where gold and silver plate are stretched out before you in such profusion, that they almost look cheap and vulgar! In one window is a display of cutlery, so bright and so fancifully arranged, that it looks like the gaudy figures in a kaleidoscope; in another, there is such an assemblage of furs, that you draw a long breath, with a smothering sensation, just to look at it.

Thus, as you pass on, one after another of these shops presents you with its treasures,――and all attended by every ingenious device, every suggestion of busy fancy, to set them off to the best advantage. There is a perpetual strife between the shopkeepers, to outshine each other: each one is desirous of obtaining notoriety, of catching the public eye, of securing a run of custom――in short, of being in the fashion and making a fortune, of course.

Regent street, at night, seems like an illuminated city. The lights in the shop windows, arranged to display the goods, are exceedingly brilliant; yet they are generally hidden from the sight, while they throw the whole flood of their blaze upon the merchandise. The effect is truly beautiful,――and if any one desires to see the shops of London to the greatest advantage, let them visit Regent street in the evening. And one thing more――if a person wishes to save his money let him defer buying till he has been in London a month; by that time, he is likely to be so surfeited with splendor, as to feel weary of it.

Fishes playing the Jewsharp.

We have often a very queer story from the far South and West. It is a land of wonders; for there they have alligators fifteen feet long; rattlesnakes by the bushel; gallinippers as big as gad flies; birds that cry out at night, “Chuck-will’s-widow!” mocking birds that surpass the far-famed nightingale in song; pigeons in such abundance as to crush the forests; wild deer that stare you in the face from the bushes; bisons as abundant as cattle at Brighton; bears with claws five inches long; and men, and women too, as brave as Julius Cæsar.

Such things there really are, in the far west; but once in a while they tell us tales that are too much for us, sober Yankees, to believe. Perhaps, in these cases, our bush-friends are only quizzing. They have lately sent us the following tale; it is a little too beautiful, I am afraid, to be really true. However, if it turns out a fable, it is a very pretty one. Only think, a tub of cat fishes, turned musicians――and that too after having had their mouths torn by the hook! Bravo! But here is the story, as we find it in the papers.

“One of the wonders of the south-west is the mysterious music at West Pascagoula. A correspondent of the Baltimore Republican, who examined it attentively, thus takes the mantle of romance from it.

“During several of my voyages on the Spanish main, in the neighborhood of ‘Baragua,’ and ‘San Juan de Nicharagua,’ from the nature of the coast, we were compelled to anchor at a considerable distance from the shore; and every evening, from dusk to late at night, our ears were delighted with the Æolian music that could be heard beneath the counter of our schooner. At first, I thought it was the sea-breeze sweeping through the strings of my violin, (the bridge of which I had inadvertently left standing;) but, after examination, found it was not so. I then placed my ear on the rail of the vessel, when I was continually charmed with the most heavenly strains that ever fell upon my ear. They did not sound as close to us, but were sweet, and mellow, and ærial; like the soft breathings of a thousand lutes, touched by the soft fingers of the deep sea nymphs, at an immense distance. To the lone mariner, far from home and kindred, at the still hour of twilight, the notes were soothing, but melancholy.

“‘Although I have considerable ‘music in my soul,’ one night I became tired, and determined to fish. My luck in half an hour was astonishing――I had half filled my bucket with the finest white cat-fish I ever saw; and it being late, and the cook asleep, and the moon shining, I filled my bucket with water, and took fish and all into my cabin for the night.

“‘I had not yet fallen asleep, when the same sweet notes fell upon my ear; and getting up, what was my surprise to find my ‘cat-fish’ discoursing sweet sounds to the sides of my bucket.

“‘I examined them closely, and discovered that there was attached to each lower lip an excrescence, divided by soft wiry fibres, and by the pressure of the upper lip thereon, and by the exhalation and discharge of breath, a vibration was created similar to that produced by the breath on the tongue of the jewsharp.’”

Tea.

The tea plant is a native of China or Japan, and probably of both. It has been used among the natives of the former country from time immemorial. It is only in a particular tract of the Chinese empire that the plant is cultivated; and this tract, which is situated on the eastern side, between the 30th and 33d degrees of north latitude, is distinguished by the natives as the “tea country.” The more northern part of China would be too cold; and farther south, the heat would be too great. There are, however, a few small plantations to be seen near Canton.

The Chinese give to the plant the name of _Tcha_ or _Tha_. It is propagated by them from seeds, which are deposited in rows, four or five feet asunder; and so uncertain is their vegetation, even in their native climate, that it is found necessary to sow as many as seven or eight seeds in every hole. The ground between each row is always kept free from weeds, and the plants are not allowed to attain a higher growth than admits of the leaves being conveniently gathered. The first crop of leaves is not collected until the year after sowing; and when the trees are six or seven years old, the produce becomes so inferior, that they are removed to make room for a fresh succession.

The flowers of the tea tree are white, and somewhat resemble the wild rose; these flowers are succeeded by soft green berries or pods, containing each from one to three white seeds. The plant will grow in either low or elevated situations, but always thrives best, and furnishes leaves of the finest quality, when produced in light, stony ground.

The leaves are gathered from one to four times during the year, according to the age of the trees. Most commonly there are three periods of gathering: the first commences about the middle of April; the second at midsummer, and the last is accomplished during August and September. The leaves that are the earliest gathered, are of the most delicate color, and the most aromatic odor, with the least portion of either fibre or bitterness. Leaves of the second gathering are of a dull green color, and have less valuable qualities than the former; while those that are last collected are of a dark green, and possess an inferior value. The quality is farther influenced by the age of the wood on which the leaves are borne, and by the degree of exposure to which they have been accustomed; leaves from young wood, and those most exposed, being the best.

The leaves, as soon as gathered, are put into wide and shallow baskets, and placed in the air or wind, or sunshine, during some hours. They are then placed 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 on at a time. These leaves are stirred quickly about with a kind of brush, and are then as quickly swept of the pan into baskets. The next process is that of rolling, which is effected by carefully rubbing them between men’s hands; after which, they are again put in larger quantities on the pan, and subjected anew to heat, but at this time, to a lower degree than that at first, and just sufficient to dry them effectually without risk of scorching. This effected, the tea is placed on a table, and carefully picked over, every unsightly or imperfectly dried leaf that is detected being removed from the rest, in order that the sample may present a more even and better appearance when offered for sale.

The names by which some of the principal sorts of tea are known in China, are taken from the places in which they are produced; while others are distinguished according to the periods of their gathering, the manner employed in curing, or other extrinsic circumstances. It is a commonly received opinion, that the distinctive color of green tea is imparted to it by the sheets of copper upon which it is dried. For this belief, there is not the slightest foundation, since copper is never used for the purpose. Repeated experiments have been made to discover, by an unerring test, whether the leaves of green tea contain any impregnation of copper, but in no case has any trace of this metal been detected.

The Chinese do not use their tea until it is about a year old, considering that it is too actively narcotic when new. The people partake of tea at all their meals, and frequently at other times of the day. They drink the infusion in the same manner that we drink it; but they do not mix with it either sugar or milk. The working classes are obliged to content themselves with a very weak infusion. Mr. Anderson, in his narrative of Lord Macartney’s Embassy, relates that the natives in attendance never failed to beg the tea leaves remaining after the Europeans had breakfasted, and with these, after submitting them again to boiling water, they made a beverage, which they acknowledged was better than any they could ordinarily obtain.

The Finland Mother.

Finland is a cold and barren country to the north-west of Russia. The inhabitants are simple and kind-hearted to one another; to strangers they are extremely hospitable. They are frugal in their mode of living, and mild, patient and resigned in their tempers. United with great gentleness of character, the women have a remarkable turn for poetry. It is quite common for one of them, at a party, or entertainment, to compose extemporaneous songs, which are said to be full of feeling and pleasant fancy.

The affection of a Finland mother for her infant is remarkable. The latter is kept in a little box, which answers for a cradle. In this, the child is swung from the ceiling of the house. If, however, the mother has occasion to go to work in the fields, she takes the child and cradle with her. She takes them also to church; and carries them swung to her side, if she goes on a journey twenty or thirty miles.

As a specimen of the extemporaneous poetry of the Finland women, we give the following passage, which is as it was written down by a traveller, who happened to hear a mother addressing her infant:

“Sleep on, little bird of the groves. Sleep softly, pretty red-breast. God, in time, will wake you from your slumbers. He has given you branches to rest upon, and leaves to screen you from the cold blasts. Sleep is at the door, and asks in a mellow-toned voice, ‘Is there not a sweet child here, who is lying in its cradle, and is desirous of sleeping; a little child, enveloped in white garments, whose mild countenance speaks of the repose of heaven?’”

Comets.

As a very splendid comet lately made its appearance among us, it may be interesting to our readers to be told something about these mysterious heavenly bodies.

Comets are a class of celestial bodies, of which, comparatively, little is known; they appear occasionally in the heavens, approaching the sun from one quarter, and, having passed it, disappear in another. Unlike the planets, they seem confined to no particular regions of the heavens, but seem distributed indifferently through space. The planets are confined within certain limits, to the ecliptic, and are never seen beyond a certain distance north or south of it. In their revolutions about the sun, they all move from west to east; yet the comets are governed by neither of these laws, for they approach the sun, and sometimes pass near the ecliptic, sometimes near the poles; some move from west to east, others from east to west, the only law by which they seem influenced being that of gravitation.

Their numbers are very great; several have been seen by the naked eye, and the telescope has increased the number to hundreds. What they are, or what purpose they fulfil in the economy of nature, is unknown. That they are material bodies of some sort, is known from their being attracted by other bodies near which they pass. A few of them are considered as permanent members of the system, as they return at certain periods to the sun, moving in very elliptic orbits, some of which are known. The comet which appeared in 1835, afforded all an opportunity of seeing it. The important point, relative to this, was that its orbit is known, and the interval between its periodical returns has been calculated. Comets of much greater magnitude and more splendid appearance have been seen, yet this, as it relates to astronomy, is the most important of all. The honor of first predicting its return belongs to Dr. Halley, a friend and contemporary of Sir Isaac Newton.

What can be the use or nature of these bodies, is a question which naturally occurs, but to which science can yet give no satisfactory answer; their peculiarities being subjects of much greater wonder to the astronomer, than to the children who gaze on them. They are material bodies, it is true, yet composed of such materials as almost to leave one in doubt as to their deserving the name.

The younger Herschel says that “the most unsubstantial clouds that float in the higher regions of the atmosphere, may be looked upon as dense and massive bodies, compared with the filmy and all but spiritual texture of a comet.” It is even probable that the substance is not to be compared for density with the air we breathe; that if a volume of cometary matter could be weighed, it would not be found so heavy as an equal volume of atmosphere.

I think you will understand some of the reasons that have led to such a conclusion. If you observe smoke, steam, or any vapor, you will find that the farther you are from it, the more difficult it is to see through it. The fog which hides the distant mountains, or even the sun, does not obscure those objects immediately about you; the thin vapor which you see at a distance covering the meadow, disappears on approaching it. A body of vapor, therefore, becomes at a distance perfectly opaque and impenetrable to the direct rays of the sun; so, were the planet Mercury composed of materials of a like nature and density, they would still appear, during a transit, like a black spot on the sun’s disc. The comet, however, instead of obstructing the rays of the sun, offers little impediment to those of a star. No vapory substance perceptible to our senses could maintain any degree of transparency at a comet’s distance, but, if the volume were large enough, would appear as a perfectly dense and opaque mass; yet during the visit of the comet of 1835, a star of about the tenth magnitude was seen through the most dense part of it, within one three hundred and sixtieth part of a degree, of its centre. Through the centres of other comets, stars have been seen, so small that it would require a thousand to make one as large as the smallest of those seen by the naked eye. The conclusion, then, is reasonable enough, that were thousands of these bodies placed between us and the sun, it would obstruct no appreciable portion of its rays, and that it would continue to appear in undiminished splendor.

We shall have a little more to say about comets in our next number.

SEE! EACH MONTH,
OLD MERRY WEAVES,
FOR LITTLE FOLKS,
HIS LITTLE LEAVES!]

Things that have happened.

A CHILD’S REASONING.

It is related of a child, that he begged his preceptor to instruct him in the law of God; but he declined, saying that he was too young to be taught these things. “But, sir,” said the boy, “I have been in the burial ground, measuring the graves, and find some of them shorter than myself; now if I should die before I have learned the word of God, what will become of me?”

STEALING.

A man, who was in the habit of going to a neighbor’s corn-field to steal the grain, one day took his son, of about eight years old, with him. The father told him to hold the bag while he looked on to watch if any one were near to see him. After standing on the fence, and peeping through all the rows of corn, he returned to take the bag from the child, and began his sinful work. “Father,” said the boy, “you forgot to look somewhere else.” “Which way, child?” supposing he had seen some one. “You forgot to look up to the sky, father, to see if God was noticing you.”

The father felt this reproof of the child so much that he left the corn-field, returned home, and never again ventured to steal; remembering the truth he had learned from his child that the eye of God always beholds us.

THE MOTHER COUNSELLED BY HER
DAUGHTER.

A lady, while weeping on account of the death of one of her children, was thus addressed by her little daughter: “Mamma, is God Almighty dead, that you cry so?” The mother, said, “No.” “Mamma, lend me your glove,” said the child. She gave it to her; and on requesting it back again, the child said, “Now you have taken the glove from me, shall I cry because you have taken your own glove? And shall you cry because God has taken away my sister?”

PRINCESS ANNE.

When the Princess Anne, daughter of Charles I. King of England, who died on the 8th of Dec., 1640, lay upon her death-bed, and nature was almost spent, she was desired by one of her attendants to pray. She said she was not able to say her long prayer, meaning the Lord’s Prayer, but she would say her short one. “Lighten my eyes, O Lord, that I sleep not the sleep of death!” The little creature had no sooner pronounced these words than she expired. She was not quite four years old.

The Blind Beggar and his Dog.

It is a sad thing to be blind; but when one is blind, it is pleasant to know that a little dog may lead one by a string, safely along the road. I will tell you a story of a poor blind man and his dog Snip.

The man was very poor; and he had no money, or children, or friends to take care of him. So he used to go from house to house, to beg his bread and his clothes. He could not see anything at all: it was always dark to him. He could not see the sun, nor the trees, nor the earth, nor the sky.

Snip was a little lively dog, with a full black eye, a nose turned up, and a tail curling over his back. He was so full of life that he used to go on three legs more than half the time, as if it was too easy to get along when he used all four.

The old man had a string tied around Snip’s neck; this he took in his left hand, while he held his cane in the right. The dog trotted forward, leading the way, and the old man followed. Snip knew the road that his master wished to travel; so on he trotted, taking care always to choose a smooth path.

Thus the dog and his master got along very well together. Sometimes Snip would play the old man a trick; for instance, seeing some dog in the path, and having a mind for a frolic, he would give a sudden jump, and jerking the string from his master’s hand, he would scamper off, racing and chasing with his fellow dog, as if he was mad.

In vain would the old man call and scold, threaten and flatter, till Snip’s sport was over. Then he would approach his master, but take pretty good care to keep out of reach of the cane. He would lie down on the ground and whine, and seem to ask to be forgiven.

At last, when the old man’s rage was over, and Snip saw that his kind feelings were apparent, he would run to his side, and jump up and lick his hand, and seem to say――“Pray forgive little Snip, he won’t do so again!” The old man would then pat him on the head, call him good dog――and, no doubt happier for a little bit of a breeze, they would both proceed on their journey.

But, at last, a sad accident befell the poor old man. In the spring, when the river was very high, he was crossing a bridge; one of the planks having been carried away, the old man fell into the stream and was carried down by the waves. Snip jumped in after him, took hold of his coat, and tried to pull him to the shore, but it was in vain.

The poor man was soon drowned, and his body was carried upon a little island. When it was found, Snip was sitting by its side, having an appearance of great sadness. The beggar was buried, but Snip would not leave the spot. The people observed the affection of the dog, and their hearts were touched by it; so they carried the poor creature food. He ate a little, but he wasted away, and in about two weeks, he was found dead upon the grave of his master!

Mother’s Advice.

What do you like best, my little reader? Pies, pears, plums, peaches, cake, or custards? You like all these things――but let me tell you, there is a thing of more value than all these; and that is――your mother’s advice.

If then a mother’s advice or counsel is of such importance, why do children care so little about it――nay, why do they so often dislike it? Tell me that, my young reader――tell me that!

The Snow Drift.

[_Concluded._]

We have told, in a former number, how Dick’s sheep and lamb had wandered away, and how a deep fall of snow had come, making the poor boy fear that they were lost.

In two days the snow was three feet deep. It was impossible now to travel about, and Dick gave up the search; but he was almost heart-broken. He was sorry to lose Nan, but his heart was touched, and his tears fell, to think that she and her poor little lamb were probably frozen to death.

The storm cleared away, but the snow was deep, and for three weeks the weather was very cold. Dick had given up all hope of seeing his sheep and lamb. But he happened one day to be talking about them, when one of his playmates said that he saw them grazing on a particular hillside the day before the storm. Dick ascertained the exact spot, and with a feeling he could hardly define, he went to the place.

He roamed about for sometime; but what could he hope to see? The snow was still deep, and covered everything around. At last he came to a snow-drift which rose by the side of a rock to the height of several feet. Up this drift he ran, when the snow-crust gave way, and he tumbled into a deep cavern! What was his amazement to find himself at once in the presence of Nan and her lamb! Dick could scarcely believe his senses; but such was the truth. They had been buried in the snow-drift, and there they had dwelt for three weeks! The old sheep had dug to the earth, and had got a few roots; and she had eaten all the wool off her back, that she could reach. Thus she had sustained life, though she was sadly emaciated.

By stepping and moving round, she had made a room of considerable size in the snow-drift, and it was into this Dick had tumbled. Her lamb had fared tolerably well, but he too was very thin. It was really very affecting to see old Nan welcome Dick. She bleated as if her heart would break; she licked his hands, and looked in his eyes in the most beseeching manner. The whole story of her sufferings and her joy was told in her countenance.

Dick now let Nan out, and she with her lamb followed him home. This was a day of joy for him――and perhaps he had no happiness in after life superior to that which he experienced in finding his sheep and lamb alive; in leading them home; in telling the glorious news; and in feeding the creatures till all traces of their sorrow were wiped away!

Inquisitive Jack.