Then Laura, void of selfish fears,

With bravery beyond her years,

Sprang swift across the deep pools brim,
Intent alone on saving him-

Her much loved brother-o'er whose face,
The shades of suff'ring stole apace,
As eagerly she grasped his hand,
And with her burden strove to land,

But strove in vain; the ice she trod,
Unstable as the mould'ring clod,
Asunder flew, with fearful crash,
Succeeded by a shriek—a splash—

Then all was o'er-for death had borne,
These joyous children, in life's morn,
Unto his garner wide and deep,
Where now unconsciously they sleep,

A sleep no mortal hand may break-
All ye, my readers, must partake,
Sooner or later-hence be wise,
Use well the gifts your God supplies;
Early avoid the haunts of sin,

And strive your Saviour's love to win,
Then whether death's near or far,
In the right path be sure you are.

M. A. H.

Arthur Delves and his sister Eliza, were amongst the wildest and gayest playmates of my childhood, and yet none were so dearly loved as they were. The generosity of Arthur's disposition led him to take the part of every small boy in the school, whilst his sister's sweetness of disposition made her the peace-maker in every dispute between the girls. It was in a pleasant spot, too, that dear old school-house, overshadowed by the green trees, and with here and there a glimpse of some bright sunny spot seen between the branches. The wild rose grew beside our pretty play ground, and the violet reared its modest head as the sunbeams smiled upon it; and formed a pleasing contrast to the hollyhock and other radiant flowers which grew luxuriantly at a little distance.

I am about to tell you a true story of my own childhood, and though I have not given the real names to the parties, still there are some, even now, who would recollect, if they should chance to read this little tale, an incident of early life for which we were better and wiser.

Mr. Young had given us a holliday, and according to agreement we all met at the play ground. It was one of those sweet days when the air seems fraught with

L

fragrance, and when the earth seems more than passing beautiful. We gathered the wild flowers, made frequent excursions into the wood, achieved the mighty exploit of killing a snake, and still there were several hours to sunset. Wearied with play, we sat down for a few moments, till Arthur starting up, exclaimed, come boys; come girls; who's for a frolic?

I, for one, cried Henry Grey, with you for a leader. And I for another cried Alfred Raby, tossing up his cap into the air. Come, girls, and boys, follow your leader!

I shall not do it said Ellen Raby, a sweet thoughtful girl; for I know that we shall be disgraced.

Poh! Ellen, do not spoil our fun, exclaimed Marian Grey. I will follow Arthur and Alfred, so now for a race: and the wild romp caught Ellen round the waist, and darted with her towards the school-house, where the rest of the party were assembled.

Eliza Delves now joined them, with her dark ringlets falling in confusion over her shoulders, and her hat nearly full of buds and blossoms, which she showered amongst them, whilst her merry laugh rung through the wood.

Arthur now drew a key from his pocket, and calling them around him, gravely said, you know that Mr. Young has been uncommonly ill-natured during the last few days; not allowing us any privileges; so now let us all go into the school-room, and destroy every thing that we can find; and then Huzza! for a week's frolic!

Let us follow Arthur, exclaimed the boys, giving three cheers-and the girls were ready to imitate their example; all but Ellen Raby, and Eliza. Ellen caught her brother's arm exclaiming Oh! Alfred, think of mother! But he heeded her not, and joined the rest of his companions. Tables and seats were overturned, copy books torn up, and the master's desk rifled of its contents; maps cut into pieces, and paint boxes broken, and the paints hid near an old bowling green, till it seemed as if the demon of disorder had taken his station in the once quiet school-room. Ellen and Eliza walked sorrowfully away, but when Arthur Delves looked round and pictured to himself the surprise and dismay of Mr. Young, he gave vent to a burst of merriment, in which he was joined by the whole party.

Stay, stay, Master Delves, exclaimed Mrs. Raby, as they passed her garden. You promised me a beautiful bunch of flowers, and Alfred was to add some berries to the gift.

The two boys colored deeply, but did not answer, but Eliza and Ellen came forward with some fruit and flowers.

And some

Here are some fine flowers, said Eliza. berries too, said Ellen. The boys did not come that

way.

You are always thoughtful and kind, said Alfred, kissing his sister. And so is my cousin Eliza; but Arthur has come to take tea with me, mother.

I am very glad, indeed, said Mrs. Raby; so come Eliza, dear, you must stay likewise.

After supper, Alfred walked part of the way home with Arthur, but his spirits had forsaken him.

I wonder what the old man will say, exclaimed the latter, as he passed the play-ground, and at the thought of Mr. Young's rage, his merry laugh echoed through the wild wood.

Alfred could not but smile, so infectious was the mirth of his light hearted friend, but he sorrowfully said, I wish I had taken the advice of Ellen, for mamma will be so grieved, and Frank, my favorite brother, will so blame me.

And to confess the truth, Alfred, I wish I had not led the others on this scheme of mischief. I fear the consequences; but no matter; we must carry it off with a good face; so good night.

Many a heart beat quickly, as Mr. Young entered the school-room, he walked to the fireplace, and immediately began prayers. When they were over he looked around with a frown upon his countenance, and sternly asked the scholars the meaning of the destruction before him. Many a sly look was exchanged, and many a cheek crimsoned with the deep flush of consciousness ; but no answer was returned. The smile that played upon the lip of Arthur did not escape the notice of Mr. Young.

"Master Delves, come forward;" said he, and Arthur left his seat with a look at Alfred Raby, in which fear and merriment were strangely blended.

"Where did you pass your holliday?"