I

WHAT I HATE.

HATE to see a little girl

That does not love to rise,

And have the water, fresh and sweet,
Cover her face and eyes.

I hate to see her pretty dress
So careless look, and tossed,
Her toys all scattered here and there,
Her thread and needle lost.

I hate to see her, at her play-
When little girls have met
To frolic, laugh, and run about
Grow peevish, cry, and fret.

I hate to hear her tell a lie,

What's not her own to take;
Mamma's commands to disobey,
And father's rules to break.

And now I've told you what I hate,
I'll only stop to say,
Perhaps I'll tell you what I love,
Upon some other day.

I

WHAT I LOVE.

LOVE to see a little girl

Rise with the lark so bright;

Bathe, comb, and dress, with cheerful face,

Then thank the God of light.

And, when she comes to meet mamma,

So fresh, and neat, and clean,

And asks a kiss from dear papa,
With such a modest mien,

That all who see her gentle look,

And pretty actions, too,

Will feel that she's a darliug child,
Kind, honest, loving, true.

These are the things I so much like;
And now who'll try to be

The meek and modest little girl

T

INDUSTRY.

HERE are many good things to be gotten out of the earth.

But men must plough and sow before they can reap, and plant before they can gather fruit. If they would have coals to burn, they must dig them; and metals from the mine, they must work hard to get and refine them.

There are riches in the wide sea. But the net must be spread ere the fishes can be taken. The whale must be pursued into the far deep waters, to get the oil for our lamps, and the sperm candles, whose light is so pure.

In the large cities are many buildings. But stones and timber, the bricks and boards, the iron and glass, of which they are made, were procured with toil; and the masons and joiners worked hard to put them together, and sometimes risked their lives upon high roofs and steeples.

There is much knowledge in books. But learned men have labored to gather and put it there; and the papermaker, and the printer, and the binder, have worked hard tɔ prepare it. The young must study hard to obtain it, and to store it in their minds.

It is so ordered in this world, that our good things are gained by industry and labor. It is our duty, and it is for our happiness, to make use of the powers, and to improve the time that God has given us. The idle are never happy.

WHO STOLE THE BIRD'S NEST.

O whit! To whit! To whee!

Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made?

Not I, said the cow, moo-oo!
Such a thing I never do,
I gave you a wisp of hay,
But didn't take your nest away.
Not I, said the cow, moo-oo!
Such a thing I'd never do.

To whit! To whit! To whee!
Will you listen to me?

Who stole four eggs I laid,

And the nice nest I made?

Bobolink! Bobolink!

Now, what do you think?
Who stole a nest away
From the plum-tree to-day?

Not I, said the dog, Bow-wow!
I wouldn't be so mean, I vow,
I gave hair the nest to make,
But the nest I did not take.
Not I, said the dog, Bow-wow!
I wouldn't be so mean, I vow.

To whit! To whit! To whee!
Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made?

Bobolink! Bobolink!

Now, what do you think?
Who stole a nest away
From the plum-tree to-day?

Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo!

Let me speak a word too,
Who stole that pretty nest,
From little yellow-breast?
Not I, said the sheep; O, no,
I wouldn't treat a poor bird so,
I gave wool the nest to line,
But the nest was none of mine,
Baa, baa! said the sheep; O, no,
I would not treat the poor bird so.

To whit! To whit! To whee!
Will you listen to me?

Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made?
Bobolink! Bobolink!

Now, what do you think?
Who stole a nest away
From the plum-tree to-day?

Coo-oo! Co0-00! Coo-oo!
Let me speak a word too,
Who stole that pretty nest
From little yellow breast?

Caw! Caw! cried the crow,
I should like to know
What thief took away
A bird's nest to-day?

Cluck! cluck! said the hen,

Don't ask me again!

Why, I haven't a chick

Would do such a trick,

We all gave a feather,

And she wove them together,

I'd scorn to intrude

On her and her brood.

Cluck! cluck! said the hen,

Don't ask me again.

Chirr-a-whirr! Chirr-a-whirr!
We will make a great stir!
Let us find out his name,
And all cry, For shame!

I would not rob a bird,
Said little Mary Green;
I think I never heard
Of anything so mean.

'Tis very cruel too,

Said little Alice Neal;
I wonder if he knew

How sad the bird would feel?

A little boy hung down his head,
And went and hid behind the bed;
For he stole that pretty nest
From poor little yellow-breast;
And he felt so full of shame,

He didn't like to tell his name.

PART

RECITATIONS FROM THE BIBLE.

ART of the School. "Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors;

Others. “And the King of Glory shall come in."

One Scholar. "Who is this King of Glory?"

All. "The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle."

Part. "Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors;"

Others. “And the King of Glory shall come in.”

One.

"Who is this King of Glory? "

All. "The Lord of Hosts, He is the King of Glory."