mantle of blessing over one and all. It silvered her tiny waves more and more, as, flowing on contentedly, she bathed the roots of a young cherry

tree.

5. And then the brook noted that none of these lived to themselves alone. The tree gave its fruit to the birds, and afforded quiet, shaded restingplaces for their nests. The birds brooded and fed their little ones. The rabbits and squirrels were busy carrying home food to their families. The elder, which bloomed beside her, gave its blossoms to make tea for a sick child, as she learned from the talk of two little girls who came for them. She was restless, they said, and it would soothe her to sleep. All were busy, all contented.

6. The brook had learned her lesson. She rippled gladly on, bearing health and freshness to all she touched, knowing not how beautiful was the melody she sang, but making her way more and more out of the shadows and into the sunlight. Another and another brook met her on her course through rolling meadows, golden in sunshine.

7. Onward, ever onward, active and cheery, she flowed, bearing blessings wherever she went and reflecting the sunlight of heaven. Far back amid mountain solitudes and shady woods the little brook could still be traced; but a deep, calm, broad river rolled through meadow-lands and between shores of changing scenery-forest, field, and hill, and happy human homes.-CHILDREN'S HOUR.

69.-Angling.

1. JUST down from the house is a sweet little nook,
Where I love in vacation to throw in my hook,
Not because I care much for the fishes, but yet
It gives such a thrill, when a nibble I get;
The exquisite thrill I feel yet.

sight,

I throw in my hook and wait for a bite,

And doubt if to wake, and find myself rich, Would afford me such joy as to feel this line twitch,

Though a poor fish may make the line twitch.

3. Almost holding my breath, there sometimes I

cower,

And patiently wait, it would seem, for an hour;
Then I raise up the rod and examine the bait,
Then drop it again, and patiently wait;
For the best of us sometimes must wait.

4. Then swinging so gently the end of the rod,
I move the bait slowly close under the sod,
Where I know the fish lie suspicious and firm,
Just to give him a nearer view of the worm;
Some men bite at less than a worm.

5. Then I move it away to the left or the right, For blessings grow brighter when taking their flight;

Then, perhaps, raise it out of water to look

And see if the bait hides the point of the hook; Only men ever take the bare hook.

6. Then I drop it in farther, perhaps up the stream, And let it float down, for it often does seem

As if fishes were wiser than men to descry What's the true course of nature, and what is a lie,

Nor so readily swallow a lie.

7. There! it starts! wait a minute! old fellow, you're mine!

No! 'twas only a long spire of grass caught the line;

It don't do in fishing, though, haply, in law,
To give a too eager jump at a straw;

They fear one who jumps at a straw.

8. But don't give him up, you may yet win the day; "Faint heart never won fair lady," they say, And many sad lives can the folly confess Of accepting a "no," when it only meant "yes;" When they mean it, why can't they say yes?

9. Now, there is a bite, it is certain, at last,
Hold! steady a little, and don't be too fast!
Take care, or he sees the near danger and hides;
It is only a nibble to look at both sides;
An old fish always looks at both sides.

10. As if 'twere the worm, just move it a bit,

For what is so mean, not to know when it's hit?
It must surely be more, or less, than a worm,
Which even a fish knows, when bitten, should
squirm;

It takes a brave man not to squirm.

11. Hold! bide well your time! blessings often delay;

Even Rome, it is said, was not built in a day;

Just give him his time, and he'll find to his cost
That who hesitates, though an old fish, is lost;
Oh, that fishes alone were thus lost!

12. I have him! as sweet as hope's morning, that gleam,

That flashes so brightly up out of the stream;
Not an instant too soon, not an instant too late,
But just at the moment, the twinkling of fate;
The right moment is all that makes fate.

70.-The Thinking Bear.

1. A LITTLE bear of philosophic bent, And given to speculative talk, Convinced by logic he could not resent

That it was time for him to try to walk, Spent the whole day debating pro and con Which leg 'twere best to start the business on.

2. "Suppose I take my pretty right fore-paw!" And then he sat and looked at it a while; "But to the woods upon the left I go,

And I should like to do the thing in style, Because some pretty she-bears that I know Will watch most anxiously the way I go.