THE LITTLE GIRL OF THE LIGHT-HOUSE. build'ing, u'sual.ly, ves'sel, is'land, ex-cept', weath'er, a.muse', se vere', dan'gers, ex-posed', min'ute, anx'ious.

A light-house is a high building in the form of a pillar, with stairs leading to the top. It is usually built near the coast of the sea, or on the shore of a lake; and every night a lamp is lighted in the top. The lamp is lighted to shew to those who may sail so near it as to see the flame in the night, that they should not come too near, lest their vessel should be dashed in pieces on the rocks or sands.

There was once a little girl named Ellen, who lived with her father on a small island, on which there was a light-house. Her father kept this light-house, and lighted the lamp every night. There were no persons but those

belonging to the light-house who lived on that island. Ellen's mother and sisters had been drowned at sea; so she was quite lonely, and had no little friends to play with, except a kitten and a dog. But she was very happy, and her father was very fond of her.

One day the man who helped her father to keep the light-house left him, and her father said he must take the boat, and go to the town, two miles off, and hire another man. He asked Ellen if she would be afraid to stay alone till the afternoon. She said: O no! She could climb about the rocks, pick up stones on the sand, and watch the clouds. She could amuse herself in many ways.'

And so her father got into his boat, and sailed away to the town. Ellen sat and read one of her little books for some time; then she went out upon the rocks, and looked at the small vessels that were sailing about. Soon the weather changed, and dark clouds began to hide the sun. The wind blew a gale, and the waves rolled over the rocks quite up to the foot of the light-house. Ellen ran

in, and went up to the top, and looked out through the glass windows. She thought of the poor sailors; and then she thought of her father, and hoped he would not try to set sail from the town in such a storm. The wind did not stop blowing. Hours passed by, and the storm

grew more severe.

At length it was time for the lamp of the light-house to be lighted. Ellen had never done this; she was not seven years old; but she had often seen her father light the lamp, and she thought that she could do it, and that she ought to do it. So she fixed it as she had seen her father do, and then struck a match, and lighted the wick. She felt quite proud when she saw the light shedding its rays over the rough waters. She then gave the dog

and the kitten their supper, and took her own, and lay down to rest.

But she could not sleep, for thinking of the storm, and the dangers to which the poor sailors were exposed. She looked out, and saw that there was a thick fog over the water, and she feared that it might hide the light of the light-house from the sailors. So she rose, and went and pulled the fog-bell, which was used to make the sailors hear when they could not see. She would pull it for a minute, and then rest; and she did this till the fog was blown away, and the bright stars shone out in the sky. Then she lay down on her little bed, and went to sleep.

All this while her father had been very anxious about her. He wanted to set sail from the town in the midst of the storm, but his friends would not let him do it. How glad he was when he saw the bright light stream forth from the light-house, telling him that Ellen was safe, and had known what to do! And when he heard the bell, he said she was a brave little girl.

Early in the morning he set sail for the island. The storm was over. He went up into Ellen's little room, and waked her with a kiss. It was a joyful meeting.

On the beach we walked,
Little Charles and I,
And together talked

Of the starry sky.
Soon another star,

As it seemed to be, All at once afar,

Shone above the sea.

Then said little Charles:

"Tis no star so bright; Now I see it is

But the light-house light. It will guide the ships,

On the sea that roam, Far from rocks and sands, Safely to their home!'

BOXIE (1).

Christ'mas, coun'try, ge.og'ra.phy, moun'tains, vi'o·lets, myr'tle, lamb'kins, hap'pened, Stafford, Rugʻby, port man'teau, leath'ern.

I am a box, a Christmas box, and I came a long way by railway. I wonder whether you have ever been where I came from? It was Wales; and such a pretty place! Wales is that country, you knowthere-look on your map! I don't know much about O dear! what do you call it? Geogra

geog-geog -geography.

But

That's it! You can tell me more about it than I can, I daresay, because you go to school, and there you learn. I only know that there are mountains in Wales-you may call them hills, if you like a shorter word-and that there are rivers there with great stones in them; and that the water bubbles over these stones, and goes Bub, bub! hiss, hiss! spot, spot! spray, spray!' whilst it tumbles down again. And I have seen ferns in Wales, and moss, and heath, and furze; and roses, and violets, and myrtle; and there is such nice rich cream there, and such dear little fairy sheep, only half the size of those that are feeding in the park: it is quite pretty to see them skip about, and to hear them call out to their lambkins: 'Baa, baa, baa!'

But you don't want to hear where I came from. You want to hear what I am. Well, then, I will say again I am a box, and a Christmas box, and I came a long way by railway. And what do you think happened on my road here? Why, they left me behind! They did, indeed, and I will tell you how it was.

I came up with my aunt-at least, not my aunt, because boxes have no aunts, you know, which is a great

pity, for I think aunts are very nice; but I came up with my little Lotty's aunt, and that is the same thing. Well, she saw the porters put me into the van when she set out, and she came to look at me when the train stopped half-way. I was quite safe, and she was very glad. But

-O dear, O dear !—at the end of the day, when she told the man to put me, and a big box she had, on a cab, to take me home, the man could not find us anywhere!

'Dear, dear!' aunt cried. 'I don't care for my clothes, but Lotty's box! Whatever will my quiet little Lotty say ?'

She was obliged to go home without me. The porter said I was not lost, only left behind, perhaps at Stafford, perhaps at Rugby; because, at Christmas, the trains were so heavy and so long. And the porter was sure I should be sent on by and by; and so I was. They did send me on, and badly I was knocked about, I can tell you! I was taken and shaken, and bumped and thumped; and I creaked and squeaked, I was so angry; and if I could have jumped out of the cord that bound me, I would, for I thought I should have been broken into twenty little bits. Look inside of me, and you will find a great crack. Do you see it? That was done by a man who kicked me hard against the corner of a leathern portmanteau. It hurt me so! for I am not tough and rough, and strong and long, and thick and quick, like some things. I am small and young; and people ought to be very gentle and tender with the little ones. Oughtn't they?

And I did not get straight to Lotty's house when I was taken out of the van at the station. I was put into a cart the next morning, and then something went wrong again, and I will tell it you. Only keep very slow and quiet, please, because this will make you sorry, and perhaps you will even cry.