And then each little sprite displayed
Great skill and bravery;—

With shred of pine bark in his mouth
Down to the stream came he;

And there he launched his tiny craft,
Nor showed the least dismay;

As with upright tail, for mast and sail,
He boldly steered away.

There could not be a fairer sight
Than that grey-squirrel fleet,
And anxiously I watched to see
The fortune it would meet.

The mid-stream rough they reached by turns,
When, ever and anon,

"Twas sore to find some small bark wrecked,
Some little steersman gone.

But stoutly on the main fleet held,
Until it touched the shore,

When swift each steersman leaped to land,

Their danger being o'er;

And with delight the gallant band
Regained the woods once more.

SILLY JACK DRAKE.

CK DRAKE was brought up very carefully by

JACK

his mother, Mrs. Duck. She took him with his brothers and sisters every day, and taught him to waddle in the way most fashionable among wellbred ducks. She taught him how to dive in the

pond and grope in the mud for worms and similar ⚫delicacies. All would have been well had Jack only attended to his mother's 'advice.

Every evening Mrs. Duck would lead her family from the pond up the meadow, and then through the farmyard to the fowl-house. There they slept at night in peace and safety. When Mrs. Duck wanted her ducklings to follow her, she would say "Quack! quack!" meaning "Come, come!" and the young ducks would quack "Yes, yes!" in reply.

One evening Jack wanted to stay longer at the pond. "I don't like to be waddling off to bed at sunset," said he. "I should like to have a swim by moonlight." "Ah, you silly fellow!" said his mother, "don't you know that it is dangerous to be out of the fowl-house after dark, when the fox is about? Come, let us all waddle together up the meadow, and get safe in-doors before darkness sets in."

So saying she led the way, and Jack was obliged to follow. When they got to the fowl-house he pretended to settle down to sleep like the others, but as soon as he could he slipped out of the door and waddled back to the pond. "Now for a dive," said he, but as he was nearing the bank he heard a noise in the hedge. "Quack, quack," said he; "what's that?"

To his horror he saw a fierce creature with a red skin, a sharp nose, and a long bushy tail. This was

the fox, as he now knew too well. "Quack! quack!" cried he, "come! come! help! help!" and soon Rover, the house dog, came barking down the meadow. But the fox was too sharp, and before Rover could get near, had seized poor Jack, and was scrambling with him through the hedge.

Who should come along just then but the farmer with his gun. On seeing him Mr. Fox thought it prudent to drop Jack Drake, and scamper off to save his own life. "What's all this?" said the farmer, as Rover came barking down. "Is this Jack Drake? Why, what business has he here at this hour?" "I cannot tell," said Rover, "I heard him call out, and rushed down to see what was the matter. I do not think his mother knows that he is out."

"Pray forgive me!" implored Jack, as he recovered himself; "only let me get safe home this once, and I'll never wander by moonlight again."

"Ah, Jack!" said the farmer, "you'll come to no good if you go about by yourself in this way. Why, if we had not come up, the fox would soon have made an end of you."

"I know it," said Jack, "and am very grateful. Let Mr. Rover see me safe home, and I'll never do so again.'

Jack kept his word, and his narrow escape was such a warning to the whole tribe of ducks that no

duck now is ever to be seen swimming alone by moonlight.

QUESTIONS.-Where did Mrs. Duck take her family every day? What did she teach Jack Drake? Where did Mrs. Duck take her family at night? How did Jack get into mischief? Where did he go? What did he see? What became of him? How was he saved? What did the farmer say to Jack? What was the end of it all?

GRAMMAR.-Point out twenty adjectives in this lesson and write them down.

THE SEA.

I LOVE it, I love it,

Whatever its hue,
Be it dark, be it bright,
Be it green, be it blue;
In whirlwind or calm,
Let it change as it will,
In sunshine or storm

It is dear to me still.

I love it when glassy,
And shadowy, and shining,
The bark and the oar

On its wave are reclining;
When lute sounds and song

O'er its bosom are stealing;
When lightnings are flashing,
When thunders are pealing.

I love it when resting
In dawn's misty light,
The white sails are cresting
The foam billows' height;
When dim in the starlight
It breaks into spray,
When broadly and brightly
"Tis flashing in day.

But oh! when the green
Island shores are at rest,
When the last glowing ray

Fades away from the west;
With silence and moonlight
About and above it,

Then, then most of all,

Oh! I love it, I love it!-MRS. DOWNING.