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that they profess to sell. They would be much surprised, however, doubtless, if anybody were to tell them so.

The juice of the apple when fermented is called cider. It is made largely in Gloucestershire, Herefordshire, and Devonshire. It is used in the western counties by the poorer classes in the place of beer. The apple keeps better than most other kinds of fruit, and is by some persons accounted the most valuable of all fruits. We all know how refreshing a roasted apple is to a sick person; and it is one of the few things that he may take without danger. We need not say how great a favourite it is with boys and girls everywhere, for we shall only then be telling them something they already know. Large quantities of apples are every year brought into this country from France, Canada, and the United States of America.

The pear tree is of the same species or kind as the apple tree, and is found wild in Britain, and other European countries. The plant is thorny in a wild state, and the fruit is small, When cultivated it is without thorns, and the fruit is mellow and pleasant. The Romans are supposed to have introduced it into this country. The jargonelle pear is one of the best kinds. Some pears ripen early in the autumn; others not till the beginning of winter, and then have to be kept a certain time to make them mellow. Pears cannot be kept so long as apples, and are in this way not so useful. Perry is made from pears in the same way as cider from apples. There are pear orchards in Worcester

shire and Herefordshire, in which pears are grown for making perry. They are not pleasant to eat, being harsh and austere to the taste. The wood of the pear tree is of a red colour, fine grained, and very hard. When dyed black it looks just like ebony, and is often used as an imitation of it. It is also used in the coarser kinds of wood engraving. When kept any considerable time, pears become soft and flabby. Shakspere alludes to this in the following passage-"They would whip me with their fine wits till I were as crest-fallen as a dried pear." The poet Thomson, in his poem on "The Seasons," thus alludes to apples and pears :"Let us taste, revived,

The breath of orchard, big with bending fruit:
Obedient to the breeze and beating ray,
From the deep-loaded bough a mellow shower,
Incessant melts away. The juicy pear
Lies in a soft profusion, scattered round."

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL.

(From Hans Christian Anderson's Tales for Children.) It was dreadfully cold; it snowed, and was beginning to grow dark. It was also the last night of the old year-New Year's Eve. In the cold and darkness a poor little girl was wandering about the streets, with bare head and bare feet. She had slippers on when she left home, but what was the good of that? They were very large, old slippers of her mother's; so large that they slipped off the little girl's feet as she hurried across to

escape two carriages, which came rattling along at a furious rate. One of the slippers no one could find, and a boy ran off with the other, saying that it would do for a cradle when he had children of his own.

So the little girl wandered along with her bare feet over the cold snow. She had a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. No one had bought a single match from her the whole day, nor given her a single farthing. Hungry and pinched with cold, the poor little girl crept along, the large flakes of snow covering her yellow hair, which curled so nicely round her face; but her appearance was the last thing she thought of.

In a corner, between two houses, one projecting beyond the other, she sought shelter; and, huddling herself up, she drew her poor little feet, which were red and blue with cold, under her as well as she could; but she was colder than ever, and dared not go home, for as she had sold no matches her father was certain to beat her. Besides, it was cold at home, for they lived under the open roof, which had large cracks, through which the wind blew, though straw and rags had been stuffed in them. Her little hands were quite benumbed with cold. Oh, how much good even one match would do if she dared but take it out of the bundle, draw it across the wall, and warm her fingers with the flame.

She drew one out; "Ritsh," how it exploded and burned. It burned with a warm bright flame

like a candle, and she bent her hand round it, It was a wonderful light! It appeared to the little girl as if she were sitting before a large iron stove, in which the fire burned brightly, and gave forth such comforting warmth. She stretched out her feet to warm them too; but the flame went out; the stove faded from her view; and there she sat with little bit of the burnt match in her

hand.

Another match was lighted, and where the light fell upon the wall, that became transparent, so that she could see through it into the room. There the table was covered with a dazzling white cloth, and fine china plates and dishes were placed round. On a large dish in the middle was a roasted goose. But what was most funny was that the goose jumped down from the table with a knife and fork sticking in his back, and waddled towards the little girl. Then the match went out, and she saw nothing but the thick cold wall.

She lighted another; and now she was sitting under the most splendid Christmas tree. It was larger and finer than the one she had seen at Christmas through the shop window of the rich merchant. Thousands of tapers were burning amongst the green branches, and painted pictures looked down upon her. She stretched out both her hands when the match was burnt out. The many lights rose higher and higher, and she now saw that they were the stars, one of which fell, leaving a lone streak of light in the sky.

"Some one is dying now," the little girl said, for

her old grandmother, who was the only person in the world who had ever loved her, but who was now dead, told her that when a star falls, a soul takes its flight to heaven.

She drew another match across the wall, and in the light it threw around her, she could see her old grandmother, so bright, so mild and loving.

"Grandmother," the little girl cried, "oh, take me with you. I know that you will go away when the match is burnt out, the same as the warm stove, the roasted goose, and the Christmas tree." She hastily lighted the rest of the matches that remained in the bundle, for she wished to keep her grandmother with her as long as she could, and the matches burned so brightly that it was lighter than day. Never before had her grandmother appeared so beautiful or so tall; and taking the little girl in her arms. they flew away in radiance and joy, high, high up into the heavens, where there is neither cold, hunger, nor fear, for there God lives and reigns.

But in the corner between the two houses, in the cold morning air, sat the little girl with red cheeks and a smiling mouth. She was frozen to death in the last night of the old year. The early light of the new year shone upon the dead body of the little girl, which was found there with her matches, one bundle of which was nearly censumed. She had been trying to warm herself, people said; but no one knew what visions she had had, or with what glory she had entered with her grandmother into the joys of a new year.

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