class="c5">When down she tumbles.

She never soils
Her pretty dresses;
She never spoils
Her silken tresses.

With cap on head,
And wee hands folded,
She's put to bed,
And never scolded.

Oh, she's a pearl!
No mischief scheming;
There's such a girl,—
Don't think I'm dreaming.

But not to tell
Her name were folly:
You know her well,
For she's your Dolly!

A LETTER FROM CALCUTTA.

Dear "Nursery,"—Way out here, a long distance from my real home, which is not far from Boston, my grandmamma sends you; and I am so fond of hearing the stories read, that I think some of your children would like to read a story about this country.

There are many things here which would be new and strange to most of them; but few things are more funny than the crows playing their pranks. The crows are very like those at home, except that these little fellows have slate-colored necks, and are much more bold.

If a window or door is left open, it will not be a minute before one or more crows will arrive and look about in search of food. If you chance to leave any thing about that is eatable, it is seized and carried off in an instant.

There is a great park here, known as the Maidan, where dogs run with bones to pick; and this habit of the dogs suits the crows perfectly, for they always try to get away the bones, and often succeed too. This is the way they usually go to work. The first crow that sees a dog with a bone calls all his friends, and off they fly to where the dog is. There they alight, and stand around him.

Then they talk to one another. Perhaps one says, in crow language, "This is an ugly cur;" another says, "He has crooked legs;" another, "His tail is cut off;" and so they keep talking until the dog gets angry, and with a snap and a bark, tries to drive them away. This only makes them laugh; and they begin again to torment the dog by talking, and even by jumping upon his back, and pulling his tail.

Now, no dog of any spirit will stand this insult. So he springs up in a rage, to punish the saucy birds. That is precisely what the crows want; for, as soon as he turns his head around to bite one crow, another darts down, seizes the bone, and carries it away. Then how they do laugh at the poor dog! and isn't he angry!

We have also a bird commonly called a "kite," but often called the "Indian swallow," as it sails about in the air just as our home swallows do. It does not seize its food with its bill, as the crow does, but with its claws or talons, and eats as it flies. Now, the crow can't help tormenting something; and the kite often gets his share of their attention.

I have seen crows sit on a fence on both sides of a kite, and provoke him by their talk, just as one boy often provokes another by saying saucy little things. At first the kite pretends not to care; but very soon his feathers ruffle, and he flies at a crow, as if to tear him in pieces. The crow is quick and darts away, but returns just as soon as the kite flies at another crow. And in this way the crows amuse themselves for a long time.

It is believed here that crows hold meetings, and decide upon the punishment due to other crows that have been bad; for they have often been seen to gather in large numbers, and, after chattering like magpies for a time, take one of their number, and peck him severely, sometimes even killing him.

Good-by, dear old "Nursery." Your little friend,

PRAIRIE DOGS.

How many of the bright-eyed boys and girls who read "The Nursery," or hear it read, month after month, ever saw a prairie-dog village? Ah! I see several little hands up. "The Nursery" has many readers in Western Kansas; and there is the very place where prairie-dog villages are found.

I will tell you about my first visit to one of them. As we were riding over the beautiful green prairie, we came to a place dotted here and there with hillocks about a foot high, and on each sat a funny little yellow dog.

These little hills, which have a hole in the top for a door, are the houses of the prairie-dogs. They would let us come quite close to them, when, with a comical squeak, intended, I suppose, for a bark, down they would go, head first, into the holes, giving their tails a "good-by" shake.

The noise they make sounds exactly like the noise made by toy-animals when you press them in your hands. Fifty prairie-dogs all barking together could not be heard very far.

On a number of the hills sat solemn old owls, trying to look very wise. Most of these owls sat perfectly still as we drove by; but I saw two or three fly slowly away, as if half asleep. I wonder if these sober old birds teach the little prairie-dogs any of their wisdom.

All the prairies in this part of Kansas are covered with a short, thick grass, called "buffalo-grass," and the dogs live on its roots. These roots are little bulbs, and make nice rich food for the funny little fellows.

A gentleman who has lived here for many years tells me that all their houses are connected underground by halls or passages, so that they can travel a mile or so without coming to the top of the ground.

Wherever you see a prairie-dog village, there you will find good water by digging a few feet. Sometimes boys capture these queer little dogs, and they become quite tame and make cunning pets.

THE STREET-PLAYER.