tickling, buzzing, tormenting wherever it goes; an uninvited guest, without a welcome.

Our ingenuity is often taxed to know how to get rid of, or destroy our numerous flies; but they usually die of a natural disease, as fatal as it is curious. You will doubtless often have observed what you supposed to be a live fly, until, attracted by its statue-like immoveability, you have been tempted to touch it, and to your astonishment discovered it was dead. That fly has certainly been destroyed by the disease of which I speak, and which consists of a species of fungus that forms around the body, growing in little rank spots, eating into the very interior of the poor insect, until nothing but a dry, empty shell remains.

It has been ascertained that a fly can mount from five to thirty-five feet in a second; and I have read that each of its compound eyes is composed of four thousand perfect organs of vision! Besides its two compound eyes, it has three smaller or simple eyes, which form a triangle between the larger. It is said that one set reflect distant, the other near objects; but I believe much of this is conjecture, on which we must not place too great reliance. The natural sight, without the aid of microscope, reveals the fly to be an interesting and wonderfully constructed little creature; and in all the insect tribes, if we would but look upon them with our seeing eyes, we should discover such a wisdom and beauty in their construction, such an intelligence and power, as would make us pause with wonder and admiration; and instead of turning shudderingly away, or crushing the tiny structure that lies at our feet, or skims through the air in such bright, happy evolutions, we would cry, in the fulness of our awakened knowledge, 'How marvellous are Thy works, O Lord!' LEIGH PAGE.

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6 PRIDE MUST HAVE A FALL.

HERE now, Miss Rose, you are all ready to go down stairs, and as nice a little lady as can be,' said Nurse Dorothy, as she fastened a broad crimson sash round her little charge, and put the finishing touches to her fair curls. 'There you are, darling. But for all you are a beauty, a real beauty, my dear, don't you be thinking too much about that, and getting puffed up

with pride. It's an ill thing, my dear; and there's a deal o' truth in the old proverb, " Pride must have a fall.”

Little Rose Morton laughed a merry, ringing laugh. 'Why, Nurse Dorothy, if I am proud, it's you that makes me so; and I'm not so proud as dear old Muff;' and, unheeding her white frock and smart sash, the child stopped a moment to caress a handsome tortoise-shell cat, which lay comfortably curled up, basking in the rays of the evening sun, which filled the pleasant nursery in little Rose's home.

‘Purr, purr, purr,' said the old cat, Muff, as the child bounded off, "Pride must have a fall." I know something about that. I could tell a story about that if I chose; only there's none would care to listen. In my young days, we all liked the stories told us by our elders; but now everything is changed. We old folks are counted bores; and it's only yesterday since I overheard my youngest grandchild tell her brother, that her old gran's stories were prosy-very. Ah, well! I am thankful to say my stories are not sensation ones, and I suppose that's the reason they are called prosy; but I could tell a story, that I could.'

A gentle mew was heard, and, turning round, the old cat saw her favourite grandchild standing beside her. 'You here, Cherry! Why, where did you come from? Have you left your companions behind you?'

'Yes, grannie,' said the kitten, 'I have. We have played all sorts of games till I am tired; and now I want to rest beside you, and hear a story.'

Upon this the old cat gave a purr of satisfaction, and, drawing the kitten to her side, began her tale.

'You see, dear, nurse was just telling Miss Rose that "Pride must have a fall;" and so I was thinking I could tell a story about it. Long ago, years before your mother was born, I lived in a grand castle in England, and, along with other two cats, led a very happy life. The castle was a beautiful one, and many a pleasant romp had we there amongst the fine shady woods which sur

rounded it. In-doors, we lived chiefly in the housekeeper's room. She was a nice old lady, and very kind to us; but the person we liked best of all was our sweet little mistress, the Lady Clara. She was quite little then, not much bigger than our own little lady, Miss Rose; but oh, so pretty! her hair fell around her like a soft golden cloud, and her eyes were as blue as the skies, and there was something in the sound of her voice like a gentle bell tinkling, and the touch of her hand felt as soft as velvet. We all did love her, and were ever ready to follow her, and obey her least command. She loved us all equally well, and when one got any delicacy, the others were sure to get some also; though many times Topsy and I declared that Silphy deserved to be rewarded for good conduct much oftener than we did,Silphy always was so gentle and good. One day, when we were indulging in a game of romps, the door opened, and our little lady entered, bearing a basket in her hand, and evidently in great glee.

"Muff, Topsy, Silphy! come here, come here!” she cried, “and see what you will see."

'You may be sure we did not wait a second bidding, but clustered round the basket, wondering much as to its contents. Slyly she opened it, laughing gently all the time; when, to our great surprise, out stepped a stately cat, unlike any we had ever seen. Pretty she was-very; a light blue colour, almost white, with a long tail and beautiful eyes; and the Lady Clara eyed her with evident admiration.

""Look at her! look at her!" she said; "isn't she a beauty? Yes, we'll call her Beauty. Here, Muff and Silph, come and make friends with your new companion."

But whatever might be our desire, it was very plain the new-comer had no wish to cultivate our acquaintance. She surveyed us all over, then turned from us with a look of pride, which said, as plainly as words could have done, "I shall have nothing to say to common cats like you; keep your distance, if you please." But I don't

think the little lady noticed her airs just then, or perhaps she thought it shyness, which would pass; and thinking we would get better friends if left alone, she glided out of the room. From that hour, for many weeks, we led a miserable life. The only way in which Beauty condescended to notice us, was by finding fault and grumbling at all we did. Everything had to be yielded to her. The best bed, the most sunny place, the daintiest pieces of food, all were usurped by the new-comer.

'Topsy and I did not relinquish our rights without a struggle; but as, alas! is often the case, "might overcame right," and we had to yield, but not without repeated fights, which brought on us punishment from our old friend the housekeeper. In short, our quiet happy life had ceased, and a constant bickering and grumbling was now to be heard in our once peaceful abode. I don't think Lady Clara found this out for a long while, for we were all quiet enough when she came amongst us, and even Beauty appeared to feel the charm of her presence. Indeed, she was full of love herself. I don't believe it would ever have come into her head to think evil of any creature, be they man or beast; and when at last Mrs. Smith gave her a notion of how matters stood, it went to my heart to see how grieved she looked,

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"Deed, my lady," I heard the latter say, "it's the new cat that's most to blame, though I would not say but what the rest, leastways Topsy and Muff (for Silphy is as good as can be), might behave better; but the airs that Beauty gives herself is not to be borne. It's just pride, my lady-pride; and that's an ill thing in beast or body."

""Oh Beauty! Beauty! how can you, how can you! And you, too, Topsy and Muff. I never could have believed it of you. I thought you were all the best and happiest cats in the world; and now I am so sorry, so very sorry;" and with tears in her eyes, she left the

room.

'I must say Topsy and I were much ashamed of our