OUR LETTER BAG FOR JUVENILES.

ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., ON PAGE 50.

7. One whose remorse for great wickedness drove him to suicide.

8. One who met his death in profanely meddling with holy things.

9. One whose death was the result of his holiness and zeal.

SQUARE WORD: LIMES

IDEAL

MERGE

EAGLE

SLEEP

A
ELF

ALTER

FEW
Ꭱ

EASY CLASSICAL ACROSTIC.-Demosthenes.

CHARADE.-Wo; Man: Woman.

SCRIPTURE DOUBLE ACROSTIC.-JothaM; AbishaI; MelchizedeC; EthiopiA; ShadracH. The initials, James, the Apostle; the finals, Micah, the prophet.

FOR SOLUTION.

ENIGMA.

I am composed of nineteen letters.

My 9, 6, 13, 18 is a beverage.

RESOLUTION OF A TEN-YEAR-OLD,

OULD you like to know how I was enabled to serve my country? It was all owing to a resolution I had formed when I was ten years of age. My father was sent to New Orleans with the little navy we had, to look after the treason of Burr. I accompanied him as a cabinboy. I had some qualities that I thought made a man of me. I could swear like an old salt; could drink a stiff glass of grog as if I had doubled Cape Horn, and could smoke like a locomotive. I was great at cards, and was fond of gambling in every shape. At the close of dinner one day, my father turned everybody out of the cabin, locked the

My 17, 12, 8, 19 is a thoroughfare.

My 4, 10, 2, 8 is a shiny mineral.

My 19, 1, 16 is what we must all do.

My whole is a familiar historical speech.

WORD SQUARES. I.

My first adorns the outside of a letter.

My second drinks rum, when water would be better.
My third, a fruit much used for making pies.
My fourth ice does before our very eyes,

My fifth prints books of every sort and size.

II.

1. One of the West Indies. 2. A river in Russia. 3. A city in Russia. 4. A mineral.

SCRIPTURE DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

1. A country whose name is the delight and comfort of many Christian people, although it was called after a wicked man lying under a fearful curse.

2. A name of a Hebrew prophet.

3. A descendant of Lot, who became the progenitor of the most distinguished royal race in the world. 4. First part of the name of one of the mightiest kings of the East.

5. A renowned city of Asia Minor. 6. A city conquered by Joshua.

Follow the sea! Yes, be a poor, miserable, drunken sailor before the mast, kicked and cuffed about the world, and die in some fever-hospital in a foreign clime."

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"No," I said; "I'll tread the quarter-deck, and command as you do."

"No, David; no boy ever trod the quarterdeck with such principles as you have, and such habits as you exhibit. You'll have to change your whole course of life if you ever become a man."

My father left me and went on deck. I was stunned by the rebuke, and overwhelmed with mortification. "A poor, miserable, drunken sailor before the mast, kicked and cuffed about the world, and die in some fever-hospital! That's my fate, is it? I'll change my life, and change it at once. I will never utter another oath, never drink a drop of intoxicating liquors, never gamble." And as God is my witness, I have kept these three vows to this hour, Shortly after, I became a Christian. That act settled my temporal, as it settled my moral destiny.-Admiral Farragut.

THE FIRST DAY IN THE FIELDS;

OR, HOW RUTH SPENT HER HALF-HOLIDAY.

(SEE ENGRAVING, PAGE 65.)

When daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver white,
And cuckoo buds of yellow hue

Do paint the meadows with delight; The cuckoo then on every tree

Sings "Cuckoo !" "Cuckoo !"

HE spring had been cold and wet, and the children living in the village of Little Tinson had been disappointed of many of their long looked for and accustomed rambles. But at last a break came, and suddenly, as if by magic, the clouds rolled away, the sky beamed with a lovely blue, bright warm sunshine illumined the earth, and a morning which had dawned in dimness, broke into a fair and lovely spring day!

How happy was little Ruth Redbourne when she saw this delightful change, for she had looked forward to her birthday for a long time, and had often and often "hoped it would be fine." Her mother had promised that if she was a good girl, and got on with her sewing, she should have a half-holiday and do "just as she liked," that is to say, provided she did not "like to do anything naughty; and her brothers and sisters were to share it with her. So, as you may suppose, all took an interest in Ruthie's progress in sewing-her elder sister helped her, and her brother also favoured her with some of his wise remarks on the subject, for like many boys he was perfectly convinced that he could sew well enough if only he chose to try, although he had rarely-if ever-made a stitch. But what is more to the point-the children had been on their best behaviour lately, and Ruth had certainly improved in her sewing, so that when her birthday came, her mother was only too glad to redeem her promise and let them all have a halfholiday.

And to crown all, the morning's glorious sunshine dried and warmed everything.

"Now we can go into the fields," cried Ruth; "it will be our first walk, and I am glad the fine weather has come on my birthday. What do you say Tom?-shall we?"

Gentle little Ruth generally asked her brother's opinion. He seemed so strong and masterful and clever; and moreover, he was always very good-as he ought to be-to his tender and loving little sister, so Ruth somehow seemed to look up to him, though he was younger.

Tom assented with glee.

"We'll pick a lot of flowers-primroses and cowslips, and mother will make us some cowslipwine, won't you, mother?"

"Oh! I dare say! What next!" exclaimed their mother, laughing.

And the children knew that she would do so, and jumped around her expressing their thanks in various ways.

"Oh! but it will be such a pity to spoil the pretty cowslips to make wine," said Ruth. "Oh! never mind that,' cried Tom. "We can get plenty more if the weather lasts."

So the children chattered, whilst their fancy pictured primrose-covered banks, budding hedgerows, and familiar fields, now dressed in green, and spangled with opening flowers.

And what greater enjoyment could the children wish for, than at this season to ramble through the fields and woods, beside clear and pleasant streams watching the flowers and young buds as they blow, and listening to the joyous notes of the birds amid the solemn cathedral silence of the forests, or making merry the meadows with their sweet music!

So they looked forward to an afternoon of great delight, and after dinner they started off.

"I think we had better go to the fields round Weston wood," said Tom decidedly. "I've seen lots of cowslips there, and by the thick hedges and bushes we are sure to find primroses and violets." His sisters, nothing loth, agreed and followed him thither.

After leaving the little straggling street of the village, their way led them through the "Gorse meadows," where the grass was already growing thick for hay, down Leesom-lane, where the hedges were nearly covered with green leaves and white may-buds; and then by Purcell's osier-bed to the little grass-grown lane, which finally led to the field of which they were in search; and when there they saw nothing else but fields-broad green tracts of country that seemed to stretch onward for ever and ever, and spread over gently-rising hills and sloping dales. The fields were dotted here and there by trees and coppices and looked lovely now, shimmering in the bright beams of the sweet spring sun, and spangled with daisies.

The profound stillness made distinctly audible the murmuring of the bee as he went humming along in search of flowers, and the low singing of the little brook, as it went prattling on its way to the far-off sea!

But the sight of the flowers absorbed all the attention of the children. They eagerly commenced to fill their hands with them, and when they had plucked as many as their little chubby fists could hold, they put them into a basket and then went on in search of others. Oh! what a wilderness of sweets seemed to open up before them. Here were daisies, thousands and thousands of them, and side by side with the meekeyed blossoms were their more pretentious neighbours, the yellow buttercups, or, as they were called by Shakspeare (who wrote that pretty verse at the head of this story), "cuckoo-buds," which indeed did paint-and always have, every spring-" the meadows with delight."

But Ruth and her companions could not as yet find any primroses or cowslips. There were plenty of other flowers; keen-eyed Ellen, Ruth's elder sister, had already seen some lovely violets peeping up from the moss-grown roots of a large ash-tree; and Tom had found a little bed

of blue-bells in a quiet nook at the end of a little copse, but not yet had they seen any of the pale golden primroses looking shily up from among their broad green leaves, nor any of the tallstalked cowslips with their deep yellow cups spotted with ruby red. And yet they were most anxious to discover them, for they remembered last year what a pleasant task it was after the ramble, to sit at home and pull out the delicate cowslip peeps from their emerald sheaths, and look forward to the pleasure of making and drinking next day sweet and fragrant cowslip wine-or cowslip tea as it is called in some locali

ties.

So they were all anxiety now to come upon a Cowslip-patch. Tom went on before the others to look about, and for some time they lost sight of him. They were too much occupied to notice this at first, then they glanced around, and called him. They were now skirting a broad hedge, which in a little distance off broadened into a wide copse. Suddenly, as they were debating where he could have gone, and meantime adding to their store in the basket some pale anemones which they had just found, he burst out of the hedge before them, with a large bunch of primroses in his hand :-

"There!" cried he, "aren't they beauties; come along girls, I'll show you where to find lots

more !"

And so, following him, the little party entered the cool and pleasant copse, where, hiding in little shaded nooks, and in some parts almost covered with moss, they found plenty of primroses. With shouts of joy they stooped down and gathered in a large supply. Still they had no cowslips, and often did Ruth peep out of the copse to see if they had yet reached the meadow they remembered last year where so many had been plucked. But somehow they could not find it yet.

Then Tom again came to the rescue, and presently calling to them from a far corner of the copse, he pointed through a tall hedge to a portion of the next field, where the ground seemed almost covered with the long sought flowers. With a cry of delight they ran forward, and soon all were busily engaged in plucking the golden-cupped cowslips. They were real beauties, some having as many as twenty buds springing from the same stalk.

"Aren't they lovely!" said Ruth, "it's worth the long walk to see and pick such flowers." "Won't they make jolly tea," cried Tom; "they are beauties, and no mistake."

And while the children were happy picking their flowers, the little brook went murmuring on its way, and over its limpid waters the drooping may-buds waved, and here and there great trees threw their arms across, mottling its surface with their shadows; and where it broadened out, the brightly coloured dragon-flies met to play, and where it was narrow the tufted bulrushes and the feathery reeds bent together; and as the brook went singing on and left the happy children and the pleasant fields, the sun gradually sank, the

shadows lengthened across the fields, and warned the children it was time to hasten home.

And when they reached home they had such a lot of things to tell mother. How Tom had found a bird's-nest, and meant to take it, only Ruth reminded him of the anguish of the parent birds, and made him promise not to take the eggs when he went that way again, but only to watch them until they were hatched. And how Ellen had nearly caught a dragon-fly, and how beautiful all the fields and woods looked, and what a nice lot of flowers they had brought home, and they had all heard the cuckoo !

"And now, dear mother, you'll make us some nice cowslip tea, won't you? and we'll put a posy of these primroses, and violets, and anemones in your room," said Tom.

66

But, Tom," said Ruth, quietly, "I've just been thinking of something. You know old Master Tritton, who is ill with a broken leg; would not he like a good bunch of our flowers ?" "And give up our cowslip tea!" cried Tom.

66

Well, if we haven't enough," said Ruth, shily. "Oh! I don't see that," cried Tom. "But this is my birthday, Tom, and you ought to do it to please me, if for no other reason."

Tom whistled, and swung his feet to and fro; whilst, contrary, to all rules of propriety and good manners, he filled his mouth cram full of bread-and-butter, for which naughty proceeding his father instantly called him to order.

"Oh! I forgot, father," was his reply; "I'm sorry-I was thinking of what Ruth said.'

"Well, my boy, don't you know that it is more blessed to give than to receive?" said his father. "You've been enjoying yourself mightily to-day; cannot you see if you can give enjoyment to others ?"

And Tom swung his feet more energetically than ever, and said, "Yes, father "; while he again bit his bread so fast that he ran a risk of once more filling his mouth too full.

And Ruth was pleased, because she knew she had gained her point, and that Tom would agree to her plan; and when tea was over, hand inhand the brother and sister went down the village street to where Master Tritton lived, and in their hands they took their biggest bunches of wild flowers to cheer the sick man's room. And when the poor fellow saw them, he was indeed rejoiced. It was like a gleam of God's own sunshine, he said, to see those young children coming shily in with those fresh flowers; and a flush of joy mantled his pale cheek as he spoke and thanked them heartily.

So the greater part of their cowslips went to brighten the chamber of suffering instead of being pulled to pieces to make tea, and the remainder were distributed over their own house as mementoes of their first day in the fields, and Ruth's half-holiday.

And when the little maiden laid her head on the pillow that night, amid the happy dreams of pleasant meadows, and babbling brooks, and sweet wild flowers that clustered round her in happy, healthy sleep, the picture of that poor

old