RICHARD WHITTINGTON.—[See next Page.]

THE LITTLE MILLIONAIRE.

My little daughter climbed up on my knee,
And said, with an air of great mystery,
"I've a secret to tell you, papa,
But I must whisper it close in your ear,
And don't you speak of it, papa dear,
For there's nobody knows but mamma.

"I am very rich! Very rich indeed!
I have far more money than I shall need;
I counted my money to-day—
Twenty new pennies—all of them mine—
And one little silver piece called a dime
That I got from my grandpapa Gray.

"I have fourteen nickels and one three-cent,
Five silver quarters, though one of them's bent;
And, papa dear, something still better,
Three big white dollars! not one of them old,
And, whisper, one beautiful piece of gold
That came in my uncle Tom's letter."

Then she clapped her small hands, laughed merry and clear,
Put her soft rosy lips down close to my ear,
(Oh, so lovely the fair curly head!)
"Am I not very rich? Now answer me true,
Am I not richer, far richer, than you?
Whisper, papa," she artlessly said.

I looked at her face, so young and so fair,
I thought of her life untouched by care,
And I said, with a happy sigh,
As my lips touched softly her waiting ear,
"You're exceedingly rich, my daughter dear!
Ten thousand times richer than I!"

THE MODEL MERCHANT OF THE MIDDLE AGES.

Out into the wide, wide world, where the fancy of high-spirited youth sees fame and fortune awaiting the daring adventurer, trudged the hero of an oft-told romance five hundred years and more ago. But the story of Dick Whittington is not all romance, and for the reason that it is in a great part real history, it is the more interesting.

The son of a gentleman of good birth but of wasted fortune, Richard Whittington was early sent up to London to be apprenticed to a merchant in that city, which even then was among the greatest and wealthiest in Christendom. An apprentice's lot was by no means a happy one. He was bound to his employer by law until he should reach the age of twenty-one years, and his duties were often of the most disagreeable and humble character. He lived in his master's house, and was treated no better than one of the lower kind of servants. It can easily be understood, therefore, how distasteful such a life must have been to a high-spirited boy whose days had been passed in the freedom of the woods and fields. And so, wearied by the tiresome life he led, the North-country boy determined to venture forth into the world to seek his fortune. Doubtless many apprentices had done as Dick Whittington did, but neither history nor legend has preserved their memory.

With a few articles of food and clothing tied up in a bundle, he left his