gentlemen seem to like to bring this odium on schools, fancying rudeness is manliness, when in reality it is a decided sign of the contrary. Think of the bravest men that have been known, that is bravest in their own persons, and I will venture to say they have been gentle and courteous in female society, for they know and feel they can dare to be so, as their credit for manly daring is known and acknowledged by every one. Take one of your rough ones, and I for one set him down as a mere bully, that hides his cowardice under blustering words. But I have wandered somewhat from my point, for I was saying rude girls make rude boys, as shewn in the case of Jane Roscoe; and civil girls make civil boys, as evinced in her sister Mary, as I am going to relate.

"Me want to go to the pretty lamb," said Reuben, hanging heavily on his brother:--"Me go to the lamb--me don't like horses."

"But you shall see the great big Newfoundland, Reuben, that you admired so much yesterday," said his brother. "Should you not like to see the large black dog?"

"Reuben wants to go to lamb," replied the child, and he resolutely stood still. "Pretty lamb, Reuben, go to lamb now."

"You can't go to the lamb, Reuben," said his brother impatiently, "so you must be content to go with me to see the large black dog. I am not going to give up my cap to any one, I promise you; so come on now, and don't keep me staying here all day."

But Reuben, as nurse had said, was a weary little fellow when bent upon any thing, and now he was bent upon going to play with the lamb, so he was determined not to move, or if he did it should only be in the direction of the lawn. Marten was, however, almost as determined to go the other way, on account of Jane Roscoe, and for a moment there seemed a doubt which boy should carry the day. The elder had the most strength, and he was inclined to use it, for Miss Roscoe had offended him, and lifting the child from the ground he was about to run off with him in the direction of the stables, when Reuben, not accustomed to opposition of this description, set up a loud cry of passion, which at once drew the attention of all near to himself and his brother.

"There," exclaimed Jane, "what are you teasing the little one so for? why not let him have his own way and come amongst us, if he will?"

"Well, go," said Marten angrily, "go, Reuben, if you like; but I tell you I will not come with you."

But this was not what Reuben desired, and he stood at a little distance from his brother looking, I am sorry to say, very naughty and selfish, for he was really wishing Marten to give up his own desires to attend to and humour his; and so now he stood moving neither one way nor another, his face turned towards the lamb so finely bedecked with flowers. His cry, however, had aroused the young girls from their occupation, and Mary Roscoe, whom one would have supposed had been really kissing the lamb, so close was her face to it, when Marten had first seen her; sprang from her knees, and running across the lawn to the gravel path, now stooped down to Reuben, and looking him kindly in the face--"Little boy," she said, "what did you cry for? what did you want? tell me, little boy, and I will see what I can do. I am a fairy, little boy. We are all fairies on that turf, and I will take you with me to fairy land and shew you some fairy wonders."

Reuben at once and without hesitation put his hand in hers, saying--"Me go see pretty lamb me go with you--me will go."

"Then come along," said Mary, and turning her head over her shoulder towards Marten, she added, "I will take care of him; so you may go to Edward and William if you like, and I dare say you will like it better than playing with girls."

"Oh! thank you, Miss Mary, thank you," replied Marten most gratefully to the kind little girl, "thank you, I am so much obliged to you."

But Marten spoke aloud, and thus drew Reuben's attention to the fact that he was going to be left with strangers, and once more he raised a cry as much of passion as of fear. So Marten, to soothe him, made a step towards the lawn with the child, though Mary still held his hand, giving a private sign to Marten that he might slip away on the first opportunity.

"Your tribute, your tribute," exclaimed Jane Roscoe: "not one step upon the grass, Master Mortimer, without giving up your cap as a sign you own us 'The ladies of the lawn.' Give it up, I command, or stay where you are."

"Will you give it me again in a minute or two, as I come back," asked Marten?

"Ask Frank Farleigh there if he has got his," said Jane. "You shall have yours when he has found his, that is if we can hide it as securely."

"Then you may get it as you can," retorted Marten rudely, stepping upon the grass, and on Jane's springing after him setting off on a race as fast as he could across the lawn, in utter defiance of the young girls. A cry was raised instantly, and all the children left their sports to pursue the boy, who had thus boldly defied their power; and lucky was it for him that he was agile and could twist and turn in his course as rapidly as a hare. But when there is at least twelve to one and a clear space, the raced has little chance, and thus it came about that the boy in self defence was forced to fly towards the stables as the only place of safety, having no leisure even to think that he was leaving his brother amongst strangers, proving himself unable to withstand temptation, even during one short hour of his visit. Marten, too, had raised a war between himself and the young girls of the party, which was not likely to be settled peacefully during the time of their stay at Mrs. Jameson's, and thus he had, to a certain sense, separated himself either from Reuben or from the bigger boys, without intending to do so for the two parties, as might be foreseen by any experienced eye, were of too different a sort to get on hourly together, as their tastes and amusements were utterly at variance.

As my story is intended to shew that temptations hourly assail us, and that in our own strength we cannot often resist them, else wherefore did Our Lord teach his disciples to pray that they might not be led into temptation, but because he knew that man of himself never turns away from the forbidden fruit. I shall not here speak much of how after a good run hither and thither, Marten at last found Edward and his companions in an open field, most of the horses and dogs from the stables being collected together, and such a scene of excitement going on that the boy had no leisure to think of anything that was not passing before his eye; and therefore, as Reuben did not appear, he, like the rest being unseen, was forgotten. In excuse for Marten I must say that he first ran to the stables, and there learnt from a boy whom he found there, that Master Jameson had had permission that morning from his papa to have out one or two of the horses and ponies, on condition that Chambers, the old coachman, and Rogers, the groom, were present with the young gentlemen, and that every obedience were paid to their directions, so that if they saw anything wrong they might enforce attention to their requests.

As many of the young gentlemen too had ridden over on their ponies to Mr. Jameson's, there were a goodly collection of horses assembled together, and the races that ensued, and the leaping over low fences that followed, so quickly passed away the time that when the first bell rang, announcing that dinner would shortly be served, Marten was quite astonished to find that it was nearly three o'clock, and that almost two hours had passed since he had seen his brother. But now, as the boys were taking the horses and dogs to the stables, he hastened towards the house as fast as he could, for he saw the lawn was tenant-less, and knowing the way to the room where he usually slept when at Mrs. Jameson's, he hurried up the stairs only to find that his things had been placed there, and that Reuben's little parcel had been taken elsewhere and was probably where the child also was, for no Reuben