about, until it was killed.

Another thing that we enjoyed very much was to go down to the creek that ran through the farm, and put some ears of green corn in the water close by the edge. We would then keep very still, and watch the corn, and, as soon as we saw it move a little, we would give it a sudden slap out of the water, and would almost always succeed in landing one or two crawfish. We dug wells in the sand, which we would fill with water to put our crawfish in. Sometimes we would have a dozen or more.

It would have been great fun to wade in the creek, but for one thing: there were sand-leeches in the water, and they would get between our toes, and bite so firmly into the flesh, that we could hardly get them off.

A great event in the day was lunch, which we ate in picnic style on the ground near the spring. We were always so hungry, that the simplest food seemed delicious. I don't think we were ever very fond of bread and butter anywhere else. By night we were very tired, and generally went sound asleep on the way home.

THE DRAWING-MASTER.

Our Peter has opened a school for teaching drawing. At present he has only two pupils; but he hopes to have more. They pay him two pins a lesson; not a high price. I fear that Peter will not get rich very soon at that rate.

But he is no miser. He loves to do good, and to teach to others all the good he knows. So he says to Tom and Harry, "This that I am drawing now is what we call a horizontal line; and this is a curved line. Do you know what a circle is, Tommy?"

"A circle is something round, isn't it?" replies Tommy.

"A circle," says Peter, drawing one on paper,—"a circle is a plane figure, bounded by a single curved line called its circumference, every part of which is equally distant from a point within it called the centre."

"How can I remember all that stuff?" said Harry.

"Stuff! Do you call it stuff, sir?" said Peter, snapping him twice on his closely-shorn head: "I will teach you not to call my definitions stuff."

"What's a definition?" asked Tommy.

"A definition," said Peter, "is what I say to you when I tell you what a thing means. If I ask you what green is, and I tell you it's the color of fresh summer grass, I give you a definition."

"School is out!" cried Harry. "Peter uses too many big words for us. Hallo! there's Bob, the butcher's dog. I'm going to have a frolic with him. Good-by, drawing-master!"

And so the school was broken up. "Never did I see boys behave so in school-time," said the teacher.

I hope his pupils will be more attentive the next time he tries to teach them how to draw.

LITTLE MOSQUITO.

LEARNING TO IRON.

"Now I've had my lesson in my 'Nursery Primer,'" said little five-year-old Ellen, "and I want to learn to iron clothes."

"You are rather too young to be trusted with a flat-iron," said her mother: "you might burn your fingers."

"I'll promise not to cry if I do," said Ellen. "Please let me go out and help Patience iron, mamma."

Mamma at last gave her consent; and our picture of Ellen and Patience at work at the ironing-board gives about as good likenesses of the two as their reflections in a mirror could have given.

Ellen saw how Patience used her flat-iron, and then used hers in the same way. She ironed a towel so well, that Patience praised her, and said she could not have done it better herself.

But, as she was trying to put a flat-iron on the stove, Ellen burnt her fingers so as to make her hop. She did not cry; for she remembered her promise. Patience wet a cloth with cold water, and put it on the burn; then she remembered that common brown soap was the best thing for a burn, so she spread some soap on a cotton rag and put that on. Soon the pain was gone, and Ellen ran and told her mother what had happened.

"You should not have tried to put the flat-iron on the stove," said her mother. "If your clothes had caught fire, you might have had a bad time."

"Would my dress have blazed up?" asked Ellen.

"I take care to dip your clothes in a weak solution of nitre before they are worn; for that prevents their blazing, even if they should catch fire," said mamma. "But you must not let that keep you from taking great care."

"Next Tuesday may I take another lesson in ironing?" asked Ellen.

"Yes: if you say your lessons well during the week, you shall not only learn to iron your clothes, but to wash them."

"That will be fun!" cried Ellen, clapping her hands, and quite forgetting her burnt finger.