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Every man or woman has a right to the support of their fellow-countrymen, either by being furnished with work, or by charity. Charity should be given to those only who are unable to work, either from sickness or the infirmity of age. As for the thief, he would be fully punished in being confined in prison till, by his labor, he had restored what he had stolen. And now, having finished my discourse, which I see you are glad of, we will have some of your favorite music! and dear little Mary, who has practised her lessons to-day very carefully, shall choose the first piece."

So, after a day spent in attending to their duties in the garden, the cow and poultry-yard, and in the dairy, this happy family finished their evening, like the best educated and tasteful people, by performing some of the choicest compositions of Haydn and Mozart; concluding their work of labor and of love with their friend Mr. N's fine "Hymn to God."

For several days at the close of the month, and when the weather was fine, the whole party, each with a sack or satchel, went into a neighboring wood hard by, to collect the fallen leaves to convert into a light soil, when decayed and mixed with mould, for some of the more delicate species of flowers. The two elder brothers each wheeled a barrow to bring home the sacks when well filled. Taunton undertook the office of ramming in and stamping down the leaves in the sacks, and of piling them in the barrows. They also looked about for some beech-nuts for their aunt's squirrel, but the season was too late for them; the little wild inhabitants of the wood had carried off a large share for their winter hoard; and the remainder, upon the ground, had become spoiled with the rains. "Never mind," said aunt Mary, "I am sure you sent me

a quite sufficient store last month, with wood-nuts, for many a week's provision for my little pet."

The following morning a strong hoar-frost had covered the ground, when Mr. Stock inquired of Adam if he had remembered the instructions he had given to him, to keep his hand glasses closed at night. Adam, however, had unfortunately neglected the precaution; and his father told him, that if the plants had received a check from the cold of the preceding night, he must endure the disgrace of having deprived the family of some pleasant early vegetables, owing to his neglect of duty. "This fault," said he, "has arisen from your having had a holyday in the wood yesterday. Remember in future, my dear boy, always in an evening, to walk once round the garden and observe what is to be done; either in attending to the plants that require our extra care, or in carrying to the garden-house any tools that may have been left out. Punctuality is the life of all business; and, indeed, I never knew any great success attend a person who was irregular in his habits and times of appointment. Neglect of order, like rust upon steel, increases with time, till the man or the metal becomes a useless lump.

"We will notice this year whether the author of the 'Domestic Gardener's Manual' be correct in his observation respecting the hoar-frosts. He says, 'Hoarfrosts, it has been remarked, afford at this season of the year a criterion whereby to judge of the character of the ensuing winter; for if, after a frosty night, the wind veer to the southwest, and bring rain in a few hours, and this occur three or four times successively, or at short intervals, the succeeding winter will generally be mild and rainy.'-Now," said Mr. Stock, 66 let me recommend you to keep an account in your

memorandum book of the kind of weather we may have every day for the next month, and ask me if you do not know from which point of the compass the wind is blowing. Do this punctually, and I shall see whether you are desirous of making amends for your neglect of last night."

Adam, in a pretty and simple manner, showed his father that he had not been wholly inattentive to his directions, for he put into his hand the monthly list he had written out of the flowers in bloom.

"In our garden, papa, I do not recollect to have seen any plants in blossom but the China rose, the Michaelmas daisy, and the laurustinus, about the middle of the month; and, in the fields, the green and white meadow-grass; the common chick-weed, which is white; the Irish rose, which I put down last month; the ivy-leaved snap-dragon, blue and yellow; the common shepherd's-purse, that is white and a little brown; the furze; the yellow groundsel; and the daisy."

"Your list is indeed a small one," said his father, “but I think it is accurate. Well, what with our amusement in the garden, (for I hope you find such labor as we perform an amusement,) our fruit gathering, and our walks, you may well laugh at the good folks of London when they complain of 'GLOOMY NOVEMBER.""

After tea, and when all their lessons had been learned for the following morning, Mrs. Stock informed them that she had just finished a little story for their amusement. The tidings produced a shout of delight from the young party, and all immediately crowded round her; one sitting on her footstool; another laying her head in her lap; a third squatting on the floor;

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THE MOTHER'S TALE.

and a fourth leaning over the back of her chair with his arm round her neck. When all were comfortably arranged and silent, she read to them the following.

THE MOTHER'S TALE.

THE STORY OF THE LITTLE MOURNER.

Ar the early age of four years, Rachael Dormer lost her mother. All who beheld the child, thought that she was insensible to that severest of events that can befall the lot of tender childhood-the death of its parent. Although, however, Rachael neither wept nor sobbed, nor gave any outward and marked sign of grief; or, indeed, had even ceased running about the house as usual, playing quietly with her doll, (her accustomed amusement during her mother's long illness,) the event had, in fact, made a strong impression upon her mind.

About six weeks after the death of Mrs. Dormer, Rachael was sitting one evening on the rug, at her father's feet, gazing earnestly into the fire, and, to all appearance, thinking intently, while her playthings lay neglected by her side.

My dear little girl,” said her father, who had for some time observed her silence," what are you thinking about so gravely?"

"I was wondering, papa, whether it was a bad thing to die."

Her father started. Never since the moment of her becoming motherless had Rachael been known to al

MOURNING FOR FRIENDS.

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lude to the subject. He conquered his feelings, however, and replied, "Certainly not, my dear child: it cannot be a 'bad thing,' as you call it, for those who were good when they were alive, since they are sure only to become still better and happier after death."

The child paused. "Then it is good that my mother died;" adding, in a low voice, "for she was very good."

"Yes, my dear," answered her father, in a firm, but quiet tone; "and she is now perfectly happy."

แ

"Why are you sorry my mother is happy?" she quickly asked.

"I am glad, my love," answered her father, in the same calm tone.

66 And yet," persisted the child, utterly unconscious, from his quiet, unmoved manner, of the pain she was inflicting upon her father," and yet I heard nurse say last Sunday evening, when she was speaking of you, papa,-'Poor gentleman! he sent all the people home in tears from church to-day, for he preached such a beautiful sermon!' and that your text from the Bible was, 'Lo! I am the man that hath seen affliction:' and that you spoke about my mother. Now I know that affliction means grief; so I do not understand why you say you are glad, papa."

Her father leaned his head upon his hand, and was silent. The good clergyman struggled hard to do what he felt to be his duty, and endeavored to make his child understand why he rejoiced that her mother was in heaven, although he grieved that he had lost her; yet, then, he could not utter a word.

"I am glad, too, that my mother is happy, as you are, papa," added the little girl, seeing that he did not answer her; "but I heard them say that you fainted