THE OBLIGING GIRL.

LUCY is a little girl who knows how to make herself very useful to her mother and her older sisters. She is always ready to run for any thing that is wanted, whether it is up stairs or down. If she is called to hold a skein of silk, or to pick up shreds from the carpet, or to look for a spool of cotton or a pair of scissors, she lays down her picture, book, or doll, and comes with cheerfulness and alacrity the instant she is called. Very often she comes when her mother and sisters are sitting at work together, and asks if there is not something that they would like to have her do; and when she knows any thing is wanted, she does not wait to be told to get it, but goes directly and brings it. Now, I have known some children who never seem to find out, of their own accord, when there is any thing for them to do. They must be told directly to do it, or they will not think of moving; and again, I have known some children who were oftentimes very slow in doing even what they were directed or requested. Elizabeth Hill is such a girl. As for doing any thing for the sake of obliging her sisters, without being asked, she would never think of such a thing. Her sister Mary happened to be late in her preparations for school one day. She was putting on her things in a great hurry, when she found that she had left one of her gloves up stairs. Mary did not ask her sister to go and get it for her, it is true, but if Elizabeth had been a thoughtful, obliging girl, she would have gone without being asked. But no; she kept her seat by the fire, and did not so much as think of trying to save her sister any time.

When Mary had her things on, she asked Elizabeth to come and tie the collar of her cloak. "If you will come here I will do it," replied the unaccommodating girl, instead of rising and going to her sister.

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Why, you know I am in a great hurry," replied Mary, "do assist me."

"Ah! I wish you would not trouble me so, every time you are going out," was Elizabeth's ill-humoured reply. What a disobliging little girl! How different from Lucy Nevers. Lucy would spend half an hour in

helping one of her sisters, if she was needed, and was always ready to comply cheerfully and promptly with the directions she received, even when the duty happened to be not exactly a pleasant one. Persons who never care to please any one but themselves are never happy. Elizabeth would seldom make any effort to oblige her brothers and sisters, and I am sorry to add, that she sometimes seemed to care very little about even her mother's wishes. She was very apt to look ill-humoured, and to comply very reluctantly when she was told to do any thing that she did not like to do, or that would oblige her to give up her play. Elizabeth was an undutiful daughter, and a disobliging, unaccommodating sister. This is rather an unamiable character for a little girl to possess. We hope you will not be like her, but rather take Lucy Nevers for a pattern.-Every Day Duty.

A FIRE.

A FIRE's a good, companionable friend,
A comfortable friend, who meets your face
With pleasant welcome, makes the poorest shed
As pleasant as a palace! Are you cold?
He warms you-weary? he refreshes you-
Hungry? he doth prepare your food for you—
Are you in darkness? he gives light to you-
In a strange land, his face is that of one
Familiar from your childhood-are you poor?
What matters it to him? He knows no difference
Between an emperor and the poorest beggar!
Where is the friend that bears the name of man
Will do as much for you?-Mary Howitt.

FRANKNESS.

THERE are some persons who are never willing to acknowledge that they have done wrong. Whenever they are blamed for any thing, they will be sure to have some excuse or palliation to offer, or they will continue to turn the attention to the share which somebody else had in the wrong.

Catherine Benson was just such a girl.

"Why, what a confused place you have made of this room, children," her mother said, as she entered the parlour one day.

Why, Mary took down every one of those books," vociferated Catherine; "I didn't touch one of them— and Emily tore up that paper into little bits, and threw it upon the floor-I couldn't help it; I told her not to do so."

"Well, I should wish you to gather up all these books and papers, and put them in their proper place : you know I have always told you to keep things in order."

"Well, Mary has been cutting papers too; they are more than half hers," replies Catherine, instead of stooping at once to pick them up.

Now, such a disposition as Catherine showed here, is far from being the right one. Catherine had a hand in putting things in disorder, and her own blame was all that she had any concern with. It was nothing to her what her sisters had been doing; she ought to have acknowledged her own fault, and obeyed her mother's directions immediately, instead of stopping to make excuses, or to tell what the others had done. It is very mean and ill-natured to wish to bring others into difficulty, or to expose their faults, when it will answer no good purpose. It is very absurd, too, for any one to suppose, that she is the less to blame herself, in any case, because somebody else has also been to blame. Suppose that a man who was brought to trial in a court of justice, for the crime of stealing, should say in selfdefence" Why, to be sure, I have been guilty of stealing, but then, such a person stole too-he stole just as much as I did. This would be foolish enough, and yet nothing is more common than for boys and girls, when they are reproved for any misconduct, to begin to tell what some of their brothers and sisters or companions had done.

It is always a bad sign for persons, and especially for young persons, to be very forward to defend themselves when they are reproved. It is better to bear a little more censure than we really deserve, than to shield ourselves when we know we are to blame. Nothing is gained by making excuses. Catherine, for example, was often supposed to be more to blame than she really was,

for she was so backward about acknowledging her faults, that her friends could never rely implicitly upon her statement of the matter, when she had been guilty of any misconduct. They always suspected her of making the best of her own story, or of withholding the part most important to be known.

She never was heard to say directly or frankly, "I was very negligent," or "I think I showed an improper spirit:" but it was always, "why, I couldn't help it-I am sure I was not to blame;" or she would bring to view the share of the blame that belonged to another.

Now, nothing was gained by this. No person was more willing to overlook her faults on account of her being so ready to excuse and defend herself. On the contrary, her friends in many cases, supposed her more to blame than she really was, and they were far less ready to make allowances for her, than if she had been willing to be convinced of her faults, and to make efforts to correct them.

These were very unamiable traits in the character of Catherine. They made her disliked by her companions, and they gave her parents and teachers a great deal of pain and trouble.

How much better it is to see boys and girls frank, and ingenuous, and candid-ready to be convinced of their faults, and to yield their opinions, when they see them to be wrong, instead of trying to cover them up, or to find excuses for them. This is the spirit which every young person ought to show.-Every Day Duty.

THE HOLLY TREE.

O READER! hast thou ever stood to see
The holly tree?

The eye that contemplates it well perceives
Its glossy leaves,

Ordered by an intelligence so wise

As might confound the Atheist's sophistries.

Below a circling fence, its leaves are seen
Wrinkled and keen;

No grazing cattle, through their prickly round,
Can reach to wound;

But as they grow where nothing is to fear,
Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear.

I love to view these things with curious eyes,
And moralize :

And in this wisdom of the holly tree

Can emblems see

Wherewith, perchance, to make a pleasant rhyme,
One which may profit in the after-time.

Thus, though abroad, perchance, I might appea
Harsh and austere ;

To those, who, on my leisure would intrude,
Reserved and rude;

Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be,
Like the high leaves upon the holly tree.

And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know,
Some harshness show,

All vain asperities, I, day by day

Would wear away;

Till the smooth temper of my age should be
Like the high leaves upon the holly tree.

And, as, when all the summer trees are seen
So bright and green,

The holly leaves their fadeless hues display
Less bright than they;

But when the bare and wintry woods we see,
What then so cheerful as the holly tree?

So serious should my youth appear among
The thoughtless throng;

So would I seem, amid the young and gay,
More grave than they;

That in my age as cheerful I might be
As the green winter of the holly tree.-Southey.

THE COFFEE-TREE.

COFFEE is the seed contained in a berry, the produce of a moderate-sized tree called the Coffea Arabica. This tree grows erect with a single stem, to the height of from