Wreaths of Friendship: A Gift for the Young

I don't know whether I hit her or not. I didn't look to see, but ran home as fast as my legs would carry me. Thus ended the first hunting excursion in which I ever engaged, and, though I was a mere boy then, and am somewhat advanced now, it proved to be my last.

SATURDAY IN WINTER

I

Our tasks are all done, come away! come away!
For a right merry time—for a Saturday play.
See! the bright sun is shining right bravely on high;
Make haste, or he'll soon be half over the sky.
Come! first with our sleds down the glassy hill side,
And then on our skates o'er the river we'll glide.

II

Now, Harry! sit firm on your sled—here we go!
Swift—swift as an arrow let fly from a bow!
Hurrah! downward rushing, how gayly we speed,
Like an Arab away on his fleet-going steed.
Hurrah! bravely done! Down the icy hill side,
Swift—swift as an arrow, again let us glide.

III

And now for the river! How smooth and how bright,
Like a mirror it sleeps in the flashing sunlight.
Be sure, brother Harry, to strap your skates well;
Last time you remember how heavy you fell.
Now away! swift away! why, Harry! not down?
Are you hurt? You must take better care of your
crown.

IV

Up, up, my good brother! now steady! start fair!
Away we go! swift through the keen, frosty air.
Down again! Bless me, Harry! your skates can't be
right—
Just wait till I see—no—but now they are tight.
Here we go again! merry as school-boys can be,
From books, pens, and pencils, and black board, set free.

V

Tired, at last, of our sport, home to dinner we run,
And find that, two hours ago, dinner was done.
But our meat and potatoes we relish quite well,
Though cold—and the reason we scarcely need tell.
Five hours spent in scudding and skating, I ween,
'Twould give to such lads as we, appetites keen.

VI

At last the dim twilight succeeds to the day;
Our week's work is ended, and ended our play.
'Tis Saturday night, and we know with the morn,
Another dear Sabbath of rest will be born.
O'er wearied, we sink into slumber profound,
Assured that God's angels are watching around.

ROVER AND HIS LITTLE MASTER.

ROVER AND HIS LITTLE MASTER

"Come, Rover!" said Harry, as he passed a fine old Newfoundland dog that lay on a mat at the door; "come, Rover! I am going down to the river to sail my boat, and I want you to go with me."

Rover opened his large eyes, and looked lazily at his little master.

"Come! Rover! Rover!"

But the dog didn't care to move, and so Harry went off to the river side alone. He had not been gone a great while, before a thought of her boy came suddenly into the mother's mind. Remembering that he had a little vessel, and that the river was near, it occurred to her that he might have gone there.

Instantly her heart began to throb with alarm.

"Is Harry with you?" she called up to Harry's father, who was in his study. But Harry's father said he was not there.

"I'm afraid he's gone to the river with his boat," said the mother.

"To the river!" And Mr Lee dropped his pen, and came quickly down. Taking up his hat, he went hurriedly from the house. Rover was still lying upon the mat, with his head upon his paws and his eyes shut.

"Rover!" said his master, in a quick, excited voice, "where is Harry? Has he gone to the river? Away and see! quick!"

The dog must have understood every word, for he sprang eagerly to his feet, and rushed toward the river. Mr Lee followed as fast as he could run. When he reached the river bank, he saw his little boy in the water, with Rover dragging him toward the shore. He was just in time to receive the half-drowned child in his arms, and carry him home to his mother.

Harry, who remained insensible, was placed in a warm bed. He soon, however, revived, and in an hour or two was running about again. But after this, Rover would never leave the side of his little master, when he wandered beyond the garden gate. Wherever you found Harry, there Rover was sure to be—sometimes walking by his side, and sometimes lying on the grass, with his big eyes watching every movement.

Once Harry found his little vessel, which had been hidden away since he went with it to the river, and, without his mother's seeing him, he started again for the water. Rover, as usual, was with him. On his way to the river, he saw some flowers, and, in order to gather them, put his boat down upon the grass. Instantly Rover picked it up in his mouth, and walked back toward the house with it. After going a little way, he stopped, looked around, and waited until Harry had got his hand full of flowers. The child then saw that Rover had his boat, and tried to get it from him; but Rover played around him, always keeping out of his reach, and retreating toward the house, until he got back within the gate. Then he bounded into the house, and laid the boat at the feet of Harry's mother.

Harry was a little angry with the good old dog, at first, but when his mother explained to him what Rover meant, he hugged him around the neck, and said he would never go down to the river again any more.

Harry is a man now, and Rover has long since been dead; but he often thinks of the dear old dog that saved him from drowning when he was a child; and it gives him great pleasure to remember that he never beat Rover, as some boys beat their dogs, when they are angry, and was never unkind to him. Had it been otherwise, the thought would have given him great pain.

SOMETHING WRONG.

SOMETHING WRONG

What's the matter here? There is something wrong. It is clear that the little boy in the picture is not receiving kind treatment at the hands of his sister. But what is she doing to him? Not pulling his ear, we hope. Something is wrong; what can it be? We must try and make it out. There is a whip and a top on the floor, and also a chair thrown down, to which a string is tied.

The little boy, we suppose, was whipping his top, while his sister was playing with the chair.