thought the water looked very pretty, for he walked right into it up to his waist.

A few minutes after Frankie went away from the back door, Sally went out to shake the hearth rug. As she did not see him any where about, she called, "Frankie, Frankie! Ponto, Ponto!" She ran around to the front of the house, still calling, "Frankie, Frankie!" and "Ponto, Ponto!"

Mamma heard her, and ran to the door.

"Have you seen Frankie, ma'am?" asked Sally, pale with fright.

"Where's Ponto?" cried the lady, without stopping to answer.

"There he is," screamed nurse, running as fast as she could toward the water.

Mamma ran too, and the ladies who were in the parlor; but mamma was so frightened that her head swam round and round, and she could hardly stand.

When Ponto heard them coming, he barked louder than ever, but he did not run toward them; and Sally sprang over the fence without waiting to let the bars down, and in one moment more caught the poor frightened Frankie in her arms. Ponto had taken the little fellow in his teeth, and put him on the bank.

He lay quite still, as if he were very tired, only when Sally placed him in his mamma's arms, he put up his little wet hand, and tried to stroke her cheek. His eyes were very red, as if he had been crying, and his clothes all dripping with water and stained with mud. Sally ran forward to get the bath tub filled with warm water, while mamma carried him gently toward the house.

No one seemed to be in such good spirits as Ponto. He danced and jumped, trying to catch Frankie's foot, and whisked his tail up and down, and did every thing he could to express his joy at having his little friend safe again.

How and when the ladies went away mamma did not know. She carried her dear boy up into the nursery, and then sank down, and began to cry. When Sally saw her, she cried too; and Jane, who, was pulling off Frankie's stockings, wiped her eyes with her apron. They were all crying for joy that dear, darling little Frankie had not been drowned. And mamma whispered a few words as she bent over her boy. She knew that God could hear, and so she said, "O my heavenly Father, I do thank thee for restoring my precious child to my arms. Once more I give him to thee."

While she was washing him, she told Sally that she had heard Ponto bark some time before, but could not see that Frankie was with him. "I shall always love Ponto," she said, "for he saved my boy."

Ponto was lying on the hearth rug, resting himself. He had had a great deal to do that morning, and he had done it well. Now, when he heard mamma repeat his name, he rapped with his tail on the floor.

"Good fellow!" said mamma; "good Ponto!"

He rapped again, louder than before. This was the way he meant to say, "I am as glad as you are, that dear Frankie is safe."

When the little fellow had been dressed in his clean clothes, Sally said she would run down to the water and bring up his wheelbarrow, which she saw there. Jane went with her, and they found where he went in, for his tiny shoe was sticking fast in the mud. Then they went round to the other side, where Ponto had carried him, and found it was very deep water, so that if the noble dog had not taken him out, he must have been drowned.

When Willie came home from school, and heard what a trusty friend Ponto had been, he put his arms round the dog's neck and kissed him. Frankie had kissed him very often, but Willie had never done so before. But Ponto seemed to understand it very well; and when papa came in, all the while mamma was telling him about poor Frankie's accident, he stood gazing into her face.

For a few moments papa could not speak; his heart was too full. He walked away to the window and wiped his eyes; but presently he came back, and patted Ponto on the head, and said, "Noble Ponto! good fellow!"

Then Ponto knew that he was glad too; and he went to the bed where Frankie was lying, and putting up his fore paws, began to lick the little fellow's hand.

When Sally took up the wet clothes to carry them to the wash, there were the marks of Ponto's teeth, where he had fastened them firmly through the dress, cambric and flannel skirts.

CHAPTER III.

I have told you so much about Frankie, I suppose you will want to know whether he was always a good boy. Did he never show a naughty temper? Was he never unkind to his brother Willie? or to his little nurse Margie? Did he never tell a lie? never take what was not his own? I am sorry to say that he did some of these things, and no doubt would have done a great many more, but that he had a kind mamma and papa to teach him.

One of the greatest blessings which God can give a little boy or a little girl, is a good Christian mother. I hope, my dear young friend, if God has been so kind as to give you such a mother, that you will thank him every day of your life.

When you wake up in the morning and repeat your little hymn, thanking God for letting you see another day, with the pleasant sun and sweet-smelling flowers, don't forget to thank him, too, for giving you a dear mamma to love you and watch over you.

And then, when you are tired with play, and lie down at night to rest your head upon the soft pillow, don't go to sleep without thanking him for preserving her who has prepared you nice food, made you warm clothes, and tried to lead your little feet in the path of right.

I think whatever faults little Frankie had, he dearly loved his mother. Ever so many times in a day he would run to her side, sometimes right in the midst of his play, and say, "I want to kiss oo. I love oo."

When he meddled with her work-basket, or did other troublesome things, and she spoke sharply, "Frankie, don't do so," he would turn in a moment and ask, with a quivering lip, "Am I your darling now, mamma?"

Once in a while Frankie would get up in the morning, and instead of the bright smile he generally wore, his face looked cross. Nurse used to say he got out of bed the wrong way. When this was the case, nothing seemed to go right with him. At breakfast he pushed away his plate, and would not let Margie fasten on his bib, and seemed very unhappy. This was not because he was sick, but because he was out of humor, and needed to be brought right again.

His mamma was very much troubled about it, and she said to herself, "If I do not correct my little son, he will grow more unhappy, and his temper will become so sullen that no one will love him; and what is worst of all, God will not love him." She went away alone into her chamber, and knelt down by her bed, and asked God to direct her what to do in order to make Frankie a good boy.

I suppose God did put some good thoughts into her mind, for the next day, when the little boy was naughty again, she arose at once, and led him away to her chamber, and talked with him a long time. And then they knelt down