ALL little folks, and big ones too, are fond of pictures. This is the por-trait of the man who did more than any one else for the sort of picture which you see in THOMAS BEWICK. this magazine. He was a wood-engraver; that is, he carved pictures on wood. There had been woodengravings before his time, but they were often very rude, as you may see in some old books. Thomas Bewick was born at Cherryburn, near Newcastle, in the year 1753; so that you can easily count how many years it is since he was born. He was sent as a boy to learn the art of engraving of Mr. Beilby, who lived at Newcastle. Bewick was only seventeen years old when his master saw he could engrave on wood better than himself. Beilby, his master, would engrave anything, from a clock face to book-plates; but Bewick liked wood-engraving the best. master had not many wood engravings to do, so young Bewick worked away by himself. After he ceased to be an ap-pren-tice he gave more time to this; and soon came to be noticed for his fine wood-pictures. In 1775 he had a prize from the Society of Arts for the best wood-engraving. The picture was one called "the Huntsman and Old Hound," a picture which was afterwards printed in "Guy's Fables." His Bewick now went into part-ner-ship with his old master. They sent out a very fine book on the Quad-rupeds of Britain." Bewick drew and engraved the pictures, and Beilby wrote the account of 66 THOMAS BEWICK. them. This brought Bewick into greater note than before. His pictures were so good that men came to learn from him how to cut wood pictures. He had many learners. Some of these learners grew almost as famous as their teacher; and from this time woodcuts were of a better kind, and were more common. To Bewick, however, belongs the honour of making a new start in wood-engraving. His pictures in the book I have told you about are still thought to be very fine as works of art. Some of the birds are very nicely cut, and the feathers on their backs are done so well that you may almost feel them. Not many have cut birds on wood so well as this. The I must now tell you about his last picture. Saturday before he died he had brought to him the proof of his last work. It was called "Waiting for Death." The picture was one of an old horse, and was drawn with great truth and power. He cut this picture to help those men who were trying to stop the great unkind-ness to animals of which men were so guilty. This was a good work. Gateshead, November 8th, 1828. best picture of all his pictures is Scotch bull. Bewick died at Men think the one of a great NOT AFRAID TO WORK. NOT AFRAID TO WORK. THE rain was pouring in the streets of a great city, when a poor looking boy stopped at a printing office, and asked to see Mr. Gay, the master of the house. "Come in," said a voice from within. Mr. Gay looked up as the door opened, and seeing the strange boy, he told him he would come to him in a few minutes. Having ended his writing, he asked what he wanted. 66 Please, sir, do you want a boy in your printing office?" 66 Why," said Mr. G., "I don't know but that we do. What can you do?" "Anything, sir, that you have for me to do. I am not afraid to work." "What is your name, and where do your parents live?" asked Mr. G. "My name, sir, is Harry Scott. My father and mother are both dead. I live with a woman who knew my mother. She is very kind to me, but she is poor, and she cannot keep me without work. I have tried at a great many places to get work, but nobody wants poor boys." NOT AFRAID TO WORK. "Have you no friend to speak for you?" asked Mr. Gay. Harry looked down a moment, and turned his old cap around his hand. His face grew bright as he drew from his pocket a small well-worn Bible. He handed it to Mr. G., saying, "That book will tell you, sir, of the only friend I have to speak for me. It was my mother's." Mr. G. took the book. On the first leaf was written-"This is your mother's dying gift. Read it daily, my son, and the orphan's God will be your friend." He closed the book and laid it on the table, and then said "Well, Harry, you may make a trial in my office. Come in the morning, and if you suit me I will have you; but I shall want you to sleep in the office till George is able to come back.” "Thank you, sir," said Harry. "I will be here early in the morning, and I will try to make myself useful." Putting his Bible in his pocket, he went homeward with a happy heart. For a long time Mr. Gay sat there where Harry had left him. He was thinking very gravely. The sight of that worn Bible, and the marks he had seen in it, had brought back early times. He, too, had |