Here are a num-ber of lit-tle tots, and what do you think they are do-ing? I think the lit-tle girl on her knees is pay-ing for-feits.

Tab-by and Rover are very good friends, so that she is not at all a-fraid to eat out of his dish when-ev-er she has not din-ner e-nough of her own.

Rain, rain, rain! How it did rain! The great drops ran down the glass in streams. Tom, Jack, and lit-tle Meg watched it for a long time. "O dear!" they said at last, "do you think it will nev-er clear? We want to go out and play."

"Why do you not go up to the gar-ret, and play?" asked their mam-ma.

That struck them as a fine plan; and off they trooped, pound-ing up the bare stairs with their nois-y feet. They found three old brooms, and be-gan to play soldier,—Tom first, then Jack, with Meg last of all. The gar-ret was ver-y large; and their mam-ma could hear them as they tramped a-long, and could hear Tom's com-mand to right a-bout face when they had reached the farth-er end.

By and by they tired of play-ing sol-dier; and then they pulled down some old dress-es and hats that hung on a peg, and put them on, and made be-lieve that they were grown peo-ple. Then, out of an old box, they dragged a scrap-book full of pic-tures, and sat them down to look them o-ver.

Mean-time their friend Rose had come, all wrapped up, through the rain, to make them a call. She brought a bas-ket, in which were her two kit-tens.

"The chil-dren are in the gar-ret," said their mam-ma.

So Rose ran up to find them. She did find them; but what do you think?—they were fast a-sleep.

Grace and Bell have had a quar-rel. Bell was most at fault, but now she is ver-y sor-ry for what she has done. So she kiss-es her sis-ter, and the trou-ble is all o-ver.

"I can nev-er, nev-er learn it," said Bell; and she burst in-to tears.

"Car-rie has learned it," said Miss Gray; "and I am sure you can. Try, try a-gain."

"Yes, Bell," said Car-rie; "and then per-haps we can have a romp in the hay-field. You will have to hur-ry, for the men are cart-ing it in-to the barn."

Thus urged, Bell made a fresh ef-fort; and soon the les-son was learned and re-cit-ed.

Off scam-pered the two girls to the hay-field. Soon Miss Gray fol-lowed, but there was noth-ing to be seen of them. She looked all a-bout, and at last walked up to the man who was load-ing the hay on the cart.

"Can you see an-y thing of two lit-tle girls from where you are?" she asked.

"I don't see them," he an-swered, stand-ing up and look-ing a-round.

Miss Gray turned a-way, when all at once she heard a laugh be-hind her. She looked back, and there were the laugh-ing fa-ces of Bell and Car-rie. They had been on the cart, all hid-den un-der the hay in or-der to play a lit-tle joke on Miss Gray. Then they scram-bled down, and came run-ning to her.

The man on the cart smiled to see their fun. Then he said sadly, "Dear me, I wish my lit-tle lass could run a-bout like that."

"Is she ill?" asked Car-rie.

"Yes," said the man; "but she is get-ting bet-ter now."

"We'll ask mam-ma to take us to see her," said Bell.

The ver-y next day their mam-ma did take them. They found Ruth sit-ting pil-lowed up in a chair, ver-y pale and white. Bell had picked her a bunch of flow-ers, which she seemed ver-y glad to get; and the three girls soon be-came good friends. Car-ree found a lit-tle gray kitten with which she played.

The vis-it seemed to do Ruth a great deal of good; for a pink flush came in her cheeks, and she e-ven laughed, which her moth-er said she had not done before for weeks.

They came a-gain the ver-y next day. Miss Gray was with them, and car-ried a bas-ket on her arm in which were some dain-ties to tempt the sick girl's ap-pe-tite. She was glad to see them, and told them they should have the kit-ten for their ver-y own. So pus-sy went back in the bas-ket which had brought the dain-ties.

Near-ly ev-er-y day af-ter this the chil-dren went to see Ruth, for at least a week. By that time she was well e-nough to be out, and some-times came to see them.

What is it that these lit-tle tots are all so anx-ious to see? It must be a Christ-mas-tree.

Rob Jack-son's dog jumped off the lit-tle bridge in-to the mill pond to fetch a stick that Hal Jones threw for him. The wheel was in full mo-tion, and Jack, for that was the dog's name, was drawn in toward it. Rob was a-fraid that Jack was go-ing to be drowned and was just a-bout to jump in af-ter him, when one of the mill hands held him fast. "Wait a bit," said the man, and he held out a long pole to Jack who clutched it with his teeth and was drawn safely to land.

This is the picture of a kit-ten who lived once at a farm-house. He was such a pret-ty lit-tle cat as to be made a great pet and used to trot a-bout af-ter the peo-ple like a lit-tle dog. His name was A-grip-pa and he knew it quite well.

To this farm-house came a boy and girl named Ned and Lau-ra, to spend the sum-mer. Both were fond of pets and both played so much with A-grip-pa that he grew rath-er la-zy and did not try to catch ma-ny mice.

Ned and Lau-ra were ver-y good friends, but it happened now and then that both want-ed the same thing and then, sad to say, some loud words might be heard. Ned would say, "Give me Grip-pa," and Lau-ra would an-swer, "You shan't have Grip-pa!" and Ned would say a-gain, "I will have Grip-pa," and so it would go on till some-times poor Grip-pa would run a-way. But they al-ways made up and were friends a-gain.

Grip-pa grew up a large, fine cat, and lived some years. But he was at length taken ill. He came no more to the house, but stayed in the barn and grew ver-y weak, till he could hard-ly walk. At last, one day he came walk-ing fee-bly to the house. He went in-to the kitch-en, then to the pan-try, then to the din-ing room. In-to all the rooms went Grip-pa, and in each room sat down and looked a-round, as if tak-ing a last fare-well; then slow-ly walked out of doors. It was in-deed his last vis-it. Next morn-ing poor Grip-pa was found dead.

Frank More had been out skat-ing near-ly the whole af-ter-noon, for there was no school this week, and the ice was in fine or-der. It was al-most dark, and he was go-ing home, skates in hand, when a poor boy a-bout as large as him-self came up and be-gan to beg from him.

"Go home with me," said Frank, "and you shall have some sup-per."

The boy went glad-ly, and on the way Frank asked him ma-ny ques-tions. When they ar-rived, Frank took him to the kitch-en, where Jane the cook gave him a warm seat and plen-ty of sup-per, for his thin face made her feel sor-ry.

When Frank had seen him com-fort-a-bly set-tled, he went up stairs to tell his fa-ther and moth-er a-bout the lad.

"Don't you think, fa-ther," he said, "that grand-pa would like such a boy? He says he will be glad to work, and if moth-er will let me give him my old suit, I can take him to see grand-pa in the morning."

"Well, Frank, you may try," said his fa-ther. So poor Sam had a good bed to sleep in that night, and next morn-ing the two boys went to see a-bout work for him. Dressed in the warm clothes Frank's moth-er gave him, he looked like quite a dif-fer-ent boy, and was ve-ry grate-ful for her kind-ness.

It was soon set-tled that Sam should live at old Mr. More's. He had a good ma-ny things to do: to help take care of the chick-ens, the sheep and lambs, the cows and horses; and be-sides all this, he went to school, and with all the other boys, had great fun at coast-ing and skat-ing when school was out. But he worked as well as he played, and proved so trust-y, that grand-ma said: "Frank's boy was a boy worth hav-ing."

So Sam found a good home and Frank had the pleas-ure of know-ing that he had helped one boy to be both use-ful and hap-py.

Jo-ey Hart was a boy who was sent by his fath-er to spend the sum-mer with an un-cle in the coun-try. Jo-ey had been ill, and the doc-tor said that there was noth-ing like coun-try air to make him well a-gain.

So he set off one bright morn-ing, and be-fore night was safe at his un-cle's farm. His pa-pa had thought that Jo-ey might go to school dur-ing the sum-mer, but when the doc-tor heard of it he said no. "Let the boy run wild for three months. He will learn twice as fast next win-ter."

He was wild with joy when he was at last at his un-cle's. He was so hun-gry, and the bread and but-ter and milk tast-ed so nice-ly, that he thought he should nev-er have e-nough. Each day he was up with the sun, and by night had played so hard that al-most be-fore it was dark he was read-y to go to bed.

It was great fun to watch the men in the fields at work. Some-times his un-cle let him ride the mow-ing ma-chine, and at such times he was ve-ry proud. Then it was ve-ry ex-cit-ing to ride on the top of a great sway-ing load of hay, right in on to the barn floor.

La-ter on, when the hay was all gath-ered, the wheat be-gan to rip-en, and the men were bu-sy cut-ting it and gath-er-ing it in-to sheaves. The birds act-ed as if they thought it was cut for them on-ly, for they came in such swarms that it looked as if they would eat it all and leave none for the farm-er.

Some-times his aunt would ask him to take their lunch-eon to the men at work in the fields, for dur-ing hay-ing and har-vest when the work is heav-i-est the men al-ways have a lunch at ten in the morn-ing.

Now on one day when Jo-ey took his bas-ket and left the house for the fields, he got him-self in-to trou-ble, and this was the way. Close by his un-cle's house on the main street lived a gen-tle-man who had a fine gar-den. All a-round it was a high fence and a no-tice was post-ed up, "Tres-pas-sers will be pros-e-cu-ted." That no-tice was be-cause the school house was not far a-way, and the boys some-times helped them-selves to the old gen-tle-man's ap-ples.

Jo-ey had to pass di-rect-ly by the gar-den wall, and it so hap-pened that his bas-ket was heav-y and he set it down to rest.

What took place you can see in the pic-ture on the next page bet-ter than I can tell you. Jo-ey got the ap-ples but a bad fall, and when he went to get up he found that he could not stand and that one an-kle hurt him se-vere-ly.

How long he would have staid there I can not tell, had not the men in the field grown hun-gry and sent one of their num-ber to see what had be-come of their lunch.

The mes-sen-ger found Jo-ey, and picked him up and car-ried him home. Then, com-ing back, he took the bas-ket and all the ap-ples that lay a-bout, and went back to the field and the men ate them all for lunch-eon.

And so Jo-ey not on-ly got no ap-ples but had to lie in bed for a week be-fore his an-kle got well e-nough for him to run a-bout a-gain.

"Oh, I say! and pippins too!!"

"I'll help myself to some of these, see if I don't Mister Notice."

Joey helps himself to more than he intended.