these things; think that each day as it comes, is a step either towards heaven or hell.

The storm at last passed away, and with many the effect it had produced passed away also, though some were roused to better things. Miss Bertram could once more take delight in going amongst the poor, and in teaching at the school. One morning, soon after, while she and her father were sitting at breakfast, the servant came in to say that Mr. Bertram was wanted directly, for Mrs. Croft's little girl had met with a bad accident, and had been nearly burnt to death.

"What, Mary!" said Miss Bertram, looking up, and her eyes filling with tears. "Oh, I hope it is not true!" But Mr. Bertram soon found there had been no mistake. She had been left that morning in charge of the little one, while her mother went out for something she wanted, and in moving a kettle, she had contrived to set her frock on fire. First she tried to put it out herself, but finding that would not do, she rushed out into the street, calling for some one to help her; but there were only some great stupid boys near, who had not the presence of mind to do any thing; and the wind made the flames burn fiercer than ever. At last the neighbours came running out, and a man got some water and flung over Mary, but not until she had been so burnt, that she was insensible when they lifted her from the ground. The doctor, who fortunately was near, came directly and did what he could for her, but he said there was no chance of her recovery; indeed, the first thing

she said was, that she should die; and the agony she suffered was so great, that not even her father and mother could wish her to live.

"Do not cry," Mr. Bertram heard her say to them. "Think what it will be to live with God."

Yes! think what it must be; not the wisest person could do more than that, and then remain like a little child, lost in wonder at God's unspeakable loving-kindness. We may, and ought to think, but we never can realize to ourselves what it is to dwell with Him who is the fulness of life, and love, and before whom the "angels veil their faces."

It was thought a great proof of old Susan's madness, by the neighbours, when she had heard what happened to her little companion-she seemed to be quite indifferent about it, and to take no notice. Only those who were close to her heard her mutter, Poor creature! But we should be glad that she is at rest; for so He hath brought her to 'the haven where she would be.'" And ever after it was observed that whenever it was possible, little Mary's grave was her resting-place. That grave was made in the sunniest part of the church-yard, and Mr. Bertram had a small white cross erected to her memory.

In the spring of the year a beautiful tuft of snow-drops sprung up from the fresh green turf, and blossomed there; nobody knew exactly who planted them; some thought it was old Susan, and some Miss Bertram; but whoever it might be, they are surely fit emblems for her whose

baptismal robe was as unsullied as their pure white blossoms, and the first-fruits of whose life had been given to God.

THE MACAUCO.

THE Macauco was a white-fronted Lemur (one of the monkey tribe), named, from his excessive agility, "Monsieur Mazurin," to which name, and also to that of "Macky," he would answer by a satisfactory grunting noise. His bounds were wonderful. From a table he

would spring twenty feet and more, to the upper angle of an open door, and then back again to the table, or his Master's shoulder, as light as a fairy. In his leaps his tail seemed to act as a kind of balancing pole, and the elastic cushions at the end of his fingers enabled him to pitch so lightly, that his descent was hardly felt when he bounded on you. He would come round the back of my neck and rub his tiny head fondly against my face or ear, and after a succession of fondlings and little gruntings, descend to my instep, as I sat cross-legged before the fire, when he would settle himself down thereon, wrap his tail round him like a lady's fur boa, and go to sleep. When in his cage, he generally slept on his perch, rolled up with his head downwards, and his tail comfortably wrapped over all. If a piece of orange were given to him, he would lift the fruit to his mouth and throw back his head so as to secure the juice-not a drop was lost. Often when Monsieur Mazurin was seated on my instep, the bell was rung for my tame Beaver, who entered as rapidly as his shuffling gait would permit, immediately came close to my leg, uttered his little cry, and caressed the leg after his fashion, by rubbing the side of his head and nose against it. Presently he would perceive

Macky, whom he would awake, and endeavour to seduce him to play by prancing and shuffling before him. Macky, nothing loath, would make a spring on Binny's tail and bound off in an instant. Upon which Binny would shuffle and prance, shake his head, and play wonderful antics. Macky would bound on Binny's back, dance a kind of saraband upon him, and then leap before him, upon which Binny would charge the dancer with the most determined heavy alacrity. Macky was over his head and skipping upon his great scaly tail in a second. Then Binny would shake his head, wheel round like a ponderous wagon, and by the time he had brought his head where his tail was, Macky had bounded from the tables and chairs on and off him twenty times. Binny would at last slap his tail again and again against the floor till he made all ring, whereupon Macky would dance round him and cut the most extravagant capers, touching Binny's tail with his finger, and jumping away as quick as thought.

They had evidently a good understanding with each other, and were on the best terms. One day they were left at large in a room together where there was a linen press, the doors of which had been left open. Macky climbed the doors, ransacked the press, pulled out the sheets, table-cloths, &c., and threw them down to the Beaver, who, having made a luxurious bed, laid himself down thereon; and when the room was entered, the two were found fast asleep, Macky with hishead and shoulders pillowed on Binny's comfortable neck.

When my Beaver died, I determined to have no more sorrowing for pets, and sent the Lemur to the Zoological Society's Garden, in the Regent's Park, where they got him a wife, with whom he lived long and happily.-Leaves from the note-book of a Naturalist by W. J. Broderip.

67

THE TWO FLOWERS.

A BEAUTIFUL Flower once grew in a stately garden. The bright eastern sun touched her glowing cup with radiance; the Lark warbled good-morrow to her; high trees waved over her head, and shaded her from the noon-tide heat; while the spray from a fountain which fell into a marble basin, shed its soft pure dew over her leaves.

The beautiful Flower was so happy, and very proud too. She drew up her graceful head, and gazed with disdain upon all the other flowers that grew near her. Yet there were many other very beautiful flowers near her; but she thought they were not to be compared to herself.

Presently, the gardener came into the garden to gather a bouquet for the young Queen. He cut off several very sweet blossoms, one after the other, and mingled them with some choice sprigs of myrtle and other green plants. Then he drew near the beautiful Flower; he gazed at it for a few seconds, admiring the colour of its lovely chalice: then he passed his knife through its slender stem, and placed it in the front rank of the delicious nosegay.

Oh how the very petals of the Flower trembled with delight and pride!

The Queen would carry her in her own royal hand-or perhaps wear her amid the glossy ringlets of her hair. Surely every flower in the garden would envy her lot.

And there was a lovely Primrose growing, at