MAURICE was about to take a walk; but, seeing Michael go in the direction of the greenhouse, he followed him, that while the work of the garden went on, the account of the country might go

on too.

said he.

"Now for April, Michael! Now for April!" "You have told me about the country in March already, and I remember it all. I have read the parable about the sower, as I said I would d; so now you must please to go on with your account."

"But let me hear what you remember about the parable. If you pour water into a colander, it will run out as fast as you put it in; and how can I tell but that you forgot the parable as fast as you read it?"

"Oh no, I have not forgotten it. The sower went out to sow; but when he scattered his seed, that part which was by the way-side was picked up by the fowls; that part which fell among the stones was scorched by the sun; that part which fell among the thorns was choked by them; and it was only the part which fell on the good ground that came up and bore fruit."

"Very good. You have remembered the parable very well, Maurice; and I hope your young heart will be like the good ground, and bring forth a hundred-fold to God's glory. I will now go on. In April, the farmer begins to sow his barley and his oats, and to roll the ground after, that the earth may lie close to the seed. Spring wheat is also sown about the same time, but it does not yield such a good crop as the wheat does that lies in the ground all the winter. There are three ways of sowing wheat: one is by scattering it over the ground with the hand; this is called broad-cast: another is by dropping the grains into holes made on purpose; this is called dibbing, or dibbling and a third way is by sowing the

wheat in regular rows with a machine; and this way goes by the name of drilling."

"I ought to know all these ways, if I am to be a farmer."

"In April the farmer rolls his clover, and the shepherd has enough to do with his flock, for it is double in number to what it was before Christmas: many of the ewes have two lambs apiece, and you may see them playing in the meadows. If there be any doubt about spring having arrived in March, there is no doubt about the matter in April. Every thing in nature around makes it plainer and plainer. The sky, the breeze, the fields, the trees, the flowers, and all living creatures declare it; and our own hearts, in the life and spirit we feel, declare it still plainer than anything else. These added enjoyments

Should teach us, while we gaze around,

God's goodness to adore,

And, as his blessings more abound,

To praise him more and more."

"There are plenty of buds, and flowers, and bees, and butterflies in April, I dare say, and more insects and animals than before. The grass, too, must have grown a great deal."

"Yes; the different animals find a sweet repast in the tender herbage, and pleasant it is to see them eating it with such an appetite. When I have

seen a cow eating young clover, or fresh grass, I have, before now, almost wished to be a cow myself. If there was nothing to be seen in April, but the different kinds of grass, they would be enough to occupy our attention through the whole month."

Different kinds! I never knew that there was more than one kind."

"Oh yes, there are many, and all of them so delicately formed, that he who observes them carefully cannot but be struck with their beauty. There is the meadow grass, that flowers for five or six months of the year, and smells so sweetly both when it is green and when made into hay. There are also the Canary grass, the Timothy grass, like

a cat's tail, the common bent, the slender spiked grass, the quaking grass, the long-awned feather grass, the cock's-foot grass, and the beautiful turfy hair-grass."

"I could not have believed there had been so many sorts."

"Besides these, there are the branching grass, the creeping grass, the wood-barley grass, and a great many more. We pass these by without thinking how useful they are in the creation. Grass is the food of cattle, horses, and sheep; their seeds are food for myriads of birds; and their stems and blades form a shelter for myriads of insects. God not only clothes the earth with grass, but he also 'clothes the grass of the field' with beauty. 'All flesh is as grass,' says one of the apostles, 1 Pet. i. 24; that is, all flesh soon withereth away."

"I remember going in the mowing grass when it was up higher than my knees, to pull up some green sorrel. The field was named Eel-pie field, but why it was called so I never knew."

"Fields have curious names sometimes."

"Tell me about some of the fields at the Grange farm, where farmer Browning lived. Were there any curious names among them?"

"Yes, a great many; at least I used to think so, before they became common to me. Odd names strike us at first, but not so much so after