WORK, BUT DON'T WORRY.

WORK, work, but don't worry, oh no, oh no;
The less you hurry the faster you'll go :
All worry, no work standeth still in the fire;
All work, and no worry soon wins his desire.

Work, work, it is hearty; but worry looks pale ;
In his eye there's a wildness, its vigor doth fail,
It's nerve is not firm, nor its footsteps so free;
Work, work, and not worry, is that which suits me.

Work, work, hearty work! see what it hath wrought, For right and for truth what battles hath fought; What blessings hath won, and what benefits given, For man, and the workers on earth and in heaven.

But worry, poor worry! say what hath it done,
But to flutter abroad, and repine when alone?
It hath stung its own heart, and dug its own grave,
But ever been powerless to bless or to save.

Work, work, saith Scripture; but worry, nowhere;
Faith, faith it enjoins, and forbids every care;
With labors of love the hands it would fill,
And the peace of the Lord on the spirit distil.

Work, work, how it thickens! Yet do what you can In patience and gladness, with the heart of a man The workers shall joy when the work is all o'er ; Work on, fellow-worker, but worry no more.

beautiful woods of W.

upon a group of children.

I suddenly came

Two little girls were busily employed in twining a wreath of the many richly tinted flowers which they had gathered as they had passed along.

Another little girl, the youngest, whose bright hair fell around her in a shower of golden curls, and for whom the wreath was evidently intended, was fitting about from one to the other, in a state of restless delight; now assisting her little brother to arrange the flowers, and now handing them to her sisters for the wreath. I did not like to interrupt them; and yet, wishing to see the little girl crowned with her beautiful wreath, I sat down be

neath a tree, where I could observe all that passed without being perceived by the little party.

I had not been there long, when one of the little girls called out in a very distressed tone of voice, "Oh, Ernest! Ernest! do come here, and kill this horrid earwig! do be quick." Ernest, a tall, manly-looking boy, whom I had not before observed, came forward with a book in his hand, which he laid down, and said kindly, as he took away the offending insect

Why, Annie, dear, you are too old to be afraid of an earwig; and, besides, you should not call it horrid, for you know God made it as well as you, and nothing which he has made can be horrid. Neither should you wish me to kill it, simply because you do not like it, for you know we should never take away the life of anything, unless it is absolutely necessary, and we cannot avoid doing so. And do you know, Annie, this horrid earwig, as you call it, is, in reality, very beautiful; for though we cannot now see them, he has a pair of exquisite thin gauze wings, shaped like an ear, from which he derives his name of earwing, which has been corrupted into earwig." Oh," said the other little girl, I wish I could see his wings, "I did not know that earwigs had any; do, Ernest, make him show them ?"

"I cannot, now, dear," he replied; "but when we go home we will ask papa to lend us his microscope, and then you will see them very plainly.

But come, are you not ready to go now, for it is getting late ?"

"Oh yes," said Annie, "we have just finished Edith's wreath. Here, Edith, darling; come and let me put it on for you. There! is it not beautiful, Ernest ?"

Ernest gave a very approving look, and little Edith said

"Oh yes, it is beautiful; thank you, dear Annie! and Carrie, too, for having made it for me;" and the put up her little mouth for a kiss, whilst her loving blue eyes sparkled with delight, as, taking her little brother's hand, she said

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Come, Willie! let us run on and show mamma how gay I am; they walk so slow, I can't keep pace with them."

"How nice it is, Ernest," said Annie, "to make other persons happy. I am sure it has given us far more pleasure to make that wreath for Edith, than if we had made it for ourselves; has it not Carrie ?"

"Yes," I thought, as their happy voices died away in the distance, "how nice it is to make other persons happy." How I wished that all people would, like little Annie, think so too; for if they would, how much pain and sorrow, from unkind words and actions, would be avoided! Do not you think so, too, little reader? and will not you try to be kind and gentle, and endeavor to make all around you happy?

THE SOUHEGAN RIVER.

TEN leagues in length, among the hills,
A little river winds its way,
Fed by a hundred brooks and rills,
It keeps on flowing night and day

Along its banks fresh pastures grow,
And laughing fields of corn and grain ;
And thirsty sheep and cattle know

Where WATER is ne'er sought in vain.

Shrewd anglers, crouching by its side,
Catch pickerel, eel, and speckled trout;
And on its winter-frozen tide,

The schoolboy's skates swift mark their rout.

A dozen mills its current turns,

Where spindles whirl, and looms keep time; Or rumbling stones grind up the corn, Or saws and lathes perpetual chime.

Six thriving villages have grown

Near by this little river's side,

And happy thousands gladly own

How much they owe their patron's tide.

Reader, whoever thou may'st be,

These lines are written unto thee;

Their lesson scan, their moral heed,
And follow where their teachings lead.

If rivers ne'er forget to flow
And scatter blessings where they go,
Why should'st thou spend an idle life,
Or vex the earth with selfish strife?