employed. Some are pitching the sheaves from the loaded wagon into the bay of the barn; some are forking them from the bay to the machine; one is untying the sheaves, while another spreads them to feed the machine; some carry the threshed corn to be winnowed; some put the winnowed corn into bags; some carry the bags of corn away;all is activity, dust, noise, and bustle. The horses are going faster round and round, for the driver, perched up on his seat in the middle of them, is smacking his whip; the machine makes more noise than ever, and the men are doubling their diligence; for farmer Bloomfield, who is here, there, and everywhere, has just cried out, 'Now, my lads! we must not let the grass grow under our feet.'"

"Well done, farmer Bloomfield! That is, I should think, as good a picture of cornthreshing as could be drawn."

"The farmer's wife is going to feed her poultry, and a pretty large family she has to provide for. She is throwing a handful of barley to the brown hen with her eight chickens. How affecting are the words of the Redeemer to the Jewish people, 'O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens

under her wings, and ye would not!' Matt. xxiii. 37. See what a scuffle there is among the feathery tribe! Turkeys, geese, ducks, Guinea fowls, and cocks and hens, are all gathered round the farmer's wife-gobbling, picking, pecking, and snatching all they can get: the old turkey-cock scares the geese;

the geese drive the ducks; the ducks, opening their broad bills, every now and then chase the cocks and hens. There they are, scratching and scrambling one among another, fluttering and flying about from this side to that; all of them gobbling away as though they were eating for their lives."

D

"Mrs. Bloomfield must have quite enough to do among them all."

"Now, then, for my last picture at present. It is a noisy scene that I am going to draw: the cackling geese are flying to the pond, the peacock is screaming from the high wall, the turkeys are crying gobble, gobble, gobble;' in the rick-yard, Jowler is rattling his chain and barking, a wagon is rumbling along the rocky lane, the threshing-machine is clattering in the barn, the pigs are squealing in the fold-yard, and old William Price is sharpening his scythe on the grinding-stone. Hark! the farmer's eldest son has let off his gun, bang!—a hawk, with a young pigeon in his claw, has tumbled into the road by the rickyard gate; and farmer Bloomfield is shouting aloud to Ralph, at the very top of his voice, to keep the old sow and the young ones from routing through the hedge of the back garden."

"What a riot there is among them all. I want to know where Ruth is all this time. Do tell me, for I like Ruth Bloomfield very much indeed."

"Oh, Ruth is very well employed: she has been hard at work with her needle for her mother, and is just now covering a new book which has been given her. I cannot tell what the book is; but you may guess by the

verse she has just read from it aloud whether it is likely to do her good:

'The Lord of holiness and truth
Shall still my thoughts engage;
For He who guides me in my youth
Will guard me in my age.'

Let me advise you to commit this verse to memory, for it is as well suited for you as it is for Ruth. You shall have more pictures another time."

A cottage is a palace, if God is worshipped there-A country life-Edward Hope the thatcher-Thatching a hayrickRobert Trueman's cottage and children-The cottage of Mark Holmes the poacher-The cottage under the wood belonging to old Jasper Jennings.

"You have given me pictures of the farmhouse and the farm-yard, father; what shall we have next? Perhaps it will be a picture of the fields."

"No, Edwin; we will say something about