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THE LEANING TOWER OF PISA. Does not this tower look very strange? It is all on one side, and leans as if it would fall down. Yet it has stood in this way ever since it was built. That is more than six hundred years ago. The names of the men who built this round tower were William of Innspruck, and Bonanno of Pisa. The tower is a belfry, and belongs to the great church of Pisa(Peesa). The whole tower is cased in marble.

As you may think, there is a very fine view from the top of the tower. You can see all the great level country around the city of Pisa ; and Pisa, I should tell you, is a fine city in Italy, and next in fineness to Florence. You can also see the hills near, and also the blue waters of the great “middle sea.” I am afraid if I tell you the name of this sea you will think it a very hard name. It is the Med-i-ter-rane-an Sea !

The leaning tower is fourteen feet out of the straight line; and if you were to put a string from the top, it would not touch the bottom of the tower, but hang away all these number of feet from it. wise man, who was the first to find out that the earth moved, I mean Galileo, used to try some things from


That very


this tower. He was born in Pisa. The people there did not know what a wise man he was ; and when he once tried to shew them one of his wise things that he had found out, they did not believe him. They were unkind to him also ; and he was thus driven away

from Pisa. But other men liked him and hon-oured him. The Pope, and all the priests, were not among them. They put him in prison. When John Milton, the great poet of our land, went to Italy, he saw Galileo.

I do not think there would have been so much thought of this leaning tower of Pisa, if it had not been for what Galileo used it.


THE BROOK AND THE POND. A way up on the side of a high mountain, a little spring sent forth a tiny brook. It was like a shining silver thread on the hill-side, and when it reached the valley, it flowed on sparkling and bubbling through the woods and meadows. As it hurried on, it passed a pond in which shone the blue sky, and the floating clouds, on its quiet bosom.

“ Whither are you going so fast ?” said the pond; “ please stop a little and let us talk."


“I cannot stop,” replied the little brook; “I am going to carry this cupful of water to the river, and the river will carry it to the sea, and then God will use it to water the earth.”

“Foolish little brook," said the pond. Keep what water you have, for you will need every drop before the summer is over. As for me, I have stopped every outlet, for I am sure I have none to spare.”

6 But what will the earth do for rain if we do not keep the great fountains full ?” said the brook, as it went along with its tinkling feet.

“ What do I care for the earth ?” replied the pond. “I shall lie here and take my ease, and the earth may take care of itself.”

The midsummer heat came, and at first the selfish pond smiled and was glad. But soon there was a change. In its quiet it grew sickly and smelt badly. The cattle came and touched their lips to it, and turned at once away. The wind which-swept over it caught the bad smell on its wings, and carried it into the fields around, so that men were vexed at the water which sent them ill health and death. But this was not all. It had shut itself in, that it might not waste itself, and now no stream brought it any water, and day by day, as the sun looked more and more upon



it, the water grew less and less, till at last there was nothing but mire.

The little brook, thinking not of itself, sped on in its joyful work, and when the heat came, the trees which it watered on its banks spread their long cool branches over it, and the flowers bent lovingly, and cast their richest perfume upon its bosom. The flocks and herds loyed its fresh coolness, and the birds sung its praises as they sipped its sweet waters. So, blessing and blessed of all, it went on its


and emptied its little stream into the river which took it to the

And did it waste itself by this ? O no! The sea which took it sent it up in mist to the sun, and the hand of the Almighty bound it up in a thick cloud, and he com-manded the winds to bear it to the mountain. As they bore it over the earth, the mist, which the sun had caught up from the pond, was gathered also into the cloud, and when it came to the mountain, where the brook had its birth, the cloud was rent, and the water, more than at first, came back in a thousand tiny channels, to the fountain and the stream. Blessed fountain ! always giving and always full.

Blessed brook! ever giving blessings and ever having them.

Now, which do my little readers wish to be like,


the selfish and stagnant pond, or the generous and active brook? O, I know you wish to be like the brook; then, remember, you must always be trying to do good ; and if you try, do not fear but God will let you have both the


and the means.


Why is Sarah standing there,
Leaning down upon a chair,
With such an angry lip and brow ?
I wonder what's the matter now.

Come here, my dear, and tell me true ;
Is it because I spoke to you
About the work you'd done so slow,
That you are standing fretting so?

Why then, indeed, I'm grieved to see
That you can so ill-temper'd be:
You make your fault a great deal worse
By being angry and perverse.

Oh! how much better t'would appear
To see you shed a humble tear,

a And then to hear you meekly say, “ I'll not do so another day.”

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