out, and his grain threshed in the barn. If a farmer be a thoughtful man, when he looks at the stacks in his rick-yard, the corn in his granary, and his comforts around him, his heart will be thankful; his soul will magnify the Lord, and his spirit rejoice in God his Saviour."

"Do farmers read much?"

"Not a great deal; and there is one book that they are too apt to neglect: if they read it oftener, it would make them happier."

'Ay, I know what book that is; you mean the Bible."

:

"I do the book is as meat and drink to a Christian. 'Creation tells us there is a God, good, and great, and glorious; and revelation tells all true believers that this God is our God for ever and ever." "

"Farmer Browning did not read a great deal, I dare say."

"No, he was no great reader. A farmer does not require much book learning; but he ought not to be an ignorant man. The times-I know not how it is, but we are almost always complaining of them-are such that a farmer had need have his wits about him, and profit by his experience."

"What is it that he ought to know ?"

we consider that he has to pay the landlord his rent, the clergyman his tithe, the overseer his poor-rates, the collector his taxes, and his workmen their wages-to keep up his stock, and to support his family with uprightness and integrity, he had need, as I said, have his wits about him. He should know how to calculate, before he takes his lease, whether his farm will answer his purpose. He should be a good judge of land and stock, and know how to improve them. He should be capable of directing his men in their different occupations. He should know something of the trades of miller, salesman, grazier, butcher, and cattle and horse dealer. Nor should he be altogether ignorant of building, land-surveying, and the common points of law, seeing that he may have something to do with all."

"I see that a farmer ought to be a thinking man."

"And there is something besides these things wanted; industry, prudence, thankfulness, and the fear of God. Without these, the rest will not be of half their value. A rich farmer may be a poor man; for what will his farm-house and his farm, his rick-yards and his granaries, his horses, his cattle, and his poultry do for him in the hour of death? Unless he has a well founded hope of a better world than this, he is a poor man; for

'what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"" Matt. xvi. 26.

"I should like to see a farm-house like the Grange, and a farmer just like farmer Browning; and the woodman with his bill-hook strapped to

his waist, and his dog running by his side. The largest tree that grows is the oak, is it not?"

"The oak is considered the first of forest trees, and a noble tree it is. After it come the ash, the elm, the beech, the pine, the larch, the cedar, the walnut, the chestnut, the poplar, the birch, the willow, and the lime: the holly, the elder,

the maple, the sycamore, the alder, and the hazel, are much smaller. Whether these trees are seen in their full foliage in June, or powdered over with snow in December, they form a goodly spectacle. They are the handywork of the Almighty, and manifest his goodness, his wisdom, and his power. It is time for me now to leave the greenhouse, and yet you hardly seem satisfied."

"I cannot be satisfied without some December pictures, and I do hope that you will give me a great many."

"If I give you any I must begin directly, and they must be rather short. Now, then, I will do my best. It is night, and the moon is shining in the sky; all is silent. The farmer and his family and his servants are asleep, and Jowler has wrapped himself round among the straw in his kennel. The cocks and hens are perched on the pole laid across, in the pen of the poultry-yard; and the little wooden door is half open. The fox has left his hole in the rock in the wood, and has crossed the fields to the farm-house; he slinks between the haystacks and behind the kid-pile. He is now by the barn, now by the stable, and now he is creeping through the little wooden door of the pen. Hark! what a confusion! the fox has run off with a good fat hen; the cocks and hens are clucking, the ducks are quacking, the geese are

gabbling. Jowler has jumped up, and is barking loudly; the farmer is at his bed-room window, with his gun; but all is too late, for the fox is half way to the wood."

"That wooden door ought not to have been It was leaving that door open that led

left open.

to all the mischief."

"The schoolboys are having a game at snowballing, and most of them are prettily peppered.

Now they are at it again. One has his cap knocked off, another is plastered all over his back, and the tallest of them has just received a snowball in his neck-hole. See, two or three of them have fallen down, and the others are rolling