I love to go there where I'm taught
Of one who's so wise and so good:
He knows every action and thought,

And gives e'en the raven his food.

For He, I am sure, who can take
Such fatherly care of a bird,

Will never forget or forsake

The children who trust to his word.

And now, if I only can sell

The matches I brought out to-day, I think I shall do very well,

And mother 'll rejoice at the pay."

"Fly home, little bird," then I thought, "Fly home full of joy to your nest!" For I took all the matches she brought, And Mary may tell you the rest.

H. F. G

THE SKATERS.

"My child," the good old man did say, "My child, come near to me; Come, tell thy father what this day Has pleasant been to thee."

። Father," the buxom boy replied, "When school was done and o'er, With a merry shout and a joyous stride, We ran for the frozen shore.

Down on the knee, we in a trice
Buckled the binding strap,

And away we went on the glary ice,
With a whoop, hallo, and clap.

And curious figures we did cut
As ever were cut by skate;
The circle now, then heel to heel,
And now the figure eight.

And away we went, nor felt no fall:
There's a hole, take care, take care!

Look out, look out! there comes the ball,
Oh, what a bound was there!

And thus we warmed the cold away,
Our cheeks were rosy red;

But there was one whose feet did stay,
Nor on the ice did tread.

Why stand you there upon the snow,
Poor timid one, and cold?

Come, venture here, and we will show
And learn you to be bold.'

Away we went upon the race,
With scarce a look behind;
But still that boy in the same place
To stand was yet inclined.

I could not bear to see him so;
And to him went and said,

'To the same school we both do go,
To sports the same are led.'

And then it was upon his cheek
I saw the frozen tear,

He did not try-why should he speak,
When nature speaks so clear?

That tear its story did relate
In language strong and sure;
No sled had he, nor yet a skate;
To buy, he was too poor.

My Hollanders of burnished steel,
Now on his feet appear;
Oh! 'tis a pleasant thing to feel
I've thawed that frozen tear."

"Well done, my boy, thus ever live; Such actions never grieve;

Know thou it is more sweet to give

Than ever to receive.

And when thy cheek, my child, to-night, Doth thy soft pillow press,

Sink thou to sleep in pure delight;

For God thy deed will bless."

DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE TEMPTER AND

A CHILD.

TEMPTER.

COME, Sweet smiling youth, will you ramble with

me,

To the place where the red-breast has built on the tree

Its beautiful nest? With soft moss it is lined, And some pretty blue eggs or young birds we shall find;

We will take them away, they shall all be for

thee;

Come, say, little boy, will you go there with me?

CHILD.

That round mosy nest, with labor and care
Was built by the redbreast to lay her eggs there,
And to rear her young brood. Oh, how happy
is she!