care-ful to wear gloves when gath-er-ing it, lest their hands should in-jure the fine green col-our. The leaves are al-lowed to re-main for some hours in open bas-kets. They are then dried in i-ron pans over heat-ed stoves. The next thing to be done is to curl the leaves, by rub-bing them gen-tly in the hands. Then they are roast-ed a-gain; and af-ter all the process is fin-ished, the tea is spread on a table, and every bad leaf is picked out. It is then care-ful-ly packed in boxes and jars, and sent a-way in ships to Eng-land, and to oth-er coun-tries.

Tea was at first im-por-ted into Eng-land in very small quan-ti-ties, and was so scarce and ex-pen-sive, that even the wealth-i-est peo-ple could on-ly very seldom ob-tain it. It is said that the East In-dia Compa-ny, not quite two hun-dred years ago, made a pres-ent of two pounds two ounces of tea to King Charles the Second. We should think this a very strange present for a king now, when more than for-ty mil-lion pounds of tea are drunk in Eng-land ev-er-y year, and the poor as well as the rich can en-joy this re-fresh-ing bev-e-rage ev-er-y day.

LESSON XLV.—THE CREATION-SEVENTH DAY. The seventh day was now come, and it was the first Sab-bath. The work of cre-a-tion was fin-ished, and God rest-ed from His work on the sev-enth day. We do not know how this Sab-bath was kept in heav-en, for God does not tell us in the Bi-ble. But I sup-pose that the an-gels praised God for ma-king this world, and for cre-a-ting Ad-am and Eve. And I sup-pose that Ad-am and Eve kept this Sab-bath by thank-ing God for His good-ness to them, and by rest-ing from their work, and

by try-ing to learn all that they could a-bout God, and a-bout their du-ty to Him. God meant that the Sabbath should be kept by Ad-am and Eve, and by all their chil-dren. He meant that it should be kept by all the men, and women, and chil-dren who should ev-er live in this world. And He showed them how to keep it; for He rest-ed from His work on the sev-enth day. And, many years after, He said, in the fourth com-mand-ment,


My dear chil-dren, let me ask you a plain ques-tion. Do you re-mem-ber the Sab-bath day to keep it ho-ly? I will tell you what it is to keep the Sab-bath ho-ly. You must not do any work—you must not play a-bout the house, or in the fields—you must not think a-bout your play-things, and talk a-bout them, and wish the Sab-bath was over. When you rise in the mom-ing, you must pray to God that He would help you to keep ho-ly the Sab-bath day. And you must ask your fath-er and moth-er to talk to you a-bout God, and tell you what you can do to please Him. And when you are at the Sun-day school, you must lis-ten to ev-er-y word that your teach-er says, and try to re-mem-ber it. And when the min-is-ter prays in the house of God, you must try to un-der-stand him, and pray with him in your heart. And if you see any wick-ed chil-dren play-ing on the Sab-bath, you must tell them that God sees them, and that God has said, Be-mem-ber The Sab-bath Day To Keep It Ho-ly.Mrs. Hooker.


"Eos-a-mond, come this way !—make haste, run!" cried God-frey. Kos-a-mond ran; but when she came op-po-site to the plant, to which her broth-er was pointing, she stood still, dis-np-point-ed.

"I see noth-ing, broth-er, that is pret-ty."

"No, but you see some-thing that is use-ful; or, at least, that was very use-ful for-mer-ly. This is the pa-py-rus, or pa-per rush."

"Very like-ly," said Ros-a-mond, " but I see noth-ing like pa-per, nor like a rush."

"It is not like the lit-tle rush-es you have seen in the fields, Ros-a-mond; but it is a kind of rush, and it grew at first on the banks of the Nile, in E-gypt, you know."

"Yes, I know the Nile is a riv-er in E-gypt."

"And the E-gyp-ti-ans used to write all their books up-on it, and all that they wrote; be-cause they had no such pa-per as we use now."

"Very like-ly," said Ros-a-mond; "but I can-not im-a-gine what part of it they wrote up-on, or how they wrote up-on it."

"I will ex-plain it to you. Look at this stem of tho plant; look, it is com-posed of thin leaves, as it were, one over the oth-er. It was on these they wrote; of these, when un-fold-ed, they made their sort of pa-per; they cut off tho top of the plant, and the root, which were of no use, and with a sharp knife they di-vi-ded these leaves or rinds of the stem, and flat-tened them, and put one over the oth-er, cross-wise; so that one leaf lay breadth-wise, and the oth-er lengthwise; and stuck them to-geth-er with the mud-dy wa-ter of the Nile, or with a sort of paste; and then the leaves were dried and pressed with heav-y weights; and some-times they were pol-ished by rub-bing them with a smooth stone."

"Eub as they would," said Eos-a-mond, "they could

nev-er make it into such nice pa-per as ours; they could not make it white."

No; but it was bet-ter than none. The Ro-mans used to write upon it a great while after the E-gypti-ans.”

“And how could they write with a pen and ink upon this leaf-y pa-per ?"

“ They wrote with a hard sort of pen-cil, that made marks on the pa-py-rus."-Miss Edgeworth.

LESSON XLVII.--CHAMOIS HUNTING, In one part of Aus-tri-à called Sty-ri-a, there are very fine moun-tains, and wild crea-tures like deer, called cha-mois, leap-ing a-mong the rocks. There are hunters who spend their time in try-ing to catch the pretty cha-mois. Once upon a time a hunt-er found a cha-mois with two very lit-tle ones in a hole on the top of a high rock. The-lit-tle cha-mois were sport-ing by their moth-er, and she was watch-ing to see that no-bod-y came near to hurt them. The hunter, hold-ing by both hands to a rock, peeped at the hap-py fam-i-ly. The old cha-mois caught sight of him, and ran at him in a fu-ry, and with her horns tried to push him down into the deep place be-low. The hunter pushed her a-way wit! his feet, and still went on com-ing near-er to the lit-tle ones. The poor cha-mois rushed back to them and showed them how to leap from their hole on to an-oth-er rock; but the young crea-tures were too young to jump so far. What would be-come of them! The hunt-er with his gun was creep-ing very close. At last the moth-er thought of a plan. She made her bod-y into a bridge. She stretched her fore feet as far as the rock be-yond, and looked back at her lit-tle ones, ho-ping they

would know what to do. And they did. They sprang up-on her as light-ly as cats, and reached the other side; and then all three were off like the wind, and were soon out of reach of the hunter's gun.

What a clever cha-mois that was, and what a ten-der moth-er! Oh! what will not a moth-er do to save her lit-tle ones from per-ish-ing !-" Near Home."

Cam-el, thou art good and inild,
Do-cile as a lit-tle child;
Thou wast made for use-ful-ness,
Man to com-fort and to bless.
Thou dost clothe him, thou dost feed,
Thou dost lend to him thy speed;
And through wilds of track-less sand,
In the hot A-ra-bi-an land,
Where no rock its shad-ow throws,
Where no cool-ing wa-ter flows,
Where the hot air is not stirred
By the wing of sing-ing bird ;
There thou goest, un-tired and meek,
Day by day, and week by week,
With thy load of pre-cious things-
Silks for mer-chants, gold for kings,
Pearls of Or-muz, rich-es rare,
Da-mas-cene and In-di-an ware;
Bale on bale, and heap on heap,
Freight-ed like a cost-ly ship!
And when week by week is gone,
And the trav-el-ler jour-neys on
Fee-bly, when his strength is fled,
And his hope and heart seem dead,

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