âlmōst in despair, two little raindrops up in the clouds over his head saw him, and one said to the other, “Look at that poor färmer; I feel sorry for him; he has taken such pains with his field of corn, and now it is âll drying up; I wish I could do him some good."

Yes," said the other, "but ÿoû are only a little rain-drop; what can you do? You can't wet even one hillock."

"Well," said the first, "to be sure I can't do much; but I can cheer the farmer a little, at any rāte, and I am resolved to do my best. I'll try; I'll go to the field to show mỹ good will, if I can do nō more." And down went the rain-drop, and came pat on the farmer's nose, and then fell on one stâlk of corn. "Dear me," said the farmer, pütting his finger to his nōṣe, "what's that? A rain-drop! Where did that drop come from? I do believe wē shall have a shower."

The first rain-drop had no sooner stärted for the field, than the second one said, "Well, if yoû gō, I believe I will gō too;" and down dropped the raindrop on another stâlk.

By this time a great many rain-drops had come together to hear what their companions were tâlking about, and when they heard them, and saw them going to cheer the färmer and wâter the corn, one of them said, "If you're going on such a good errand, I'll go too;" and down he came. "And I," said another; "and I—and I—and I;" and so on, till a

whole shower of them came; and the corn was âll wâtered, and it grew and ripened, âll because the first little rain-drop determined to do what it could.

Never be discouraged becauṣe ÿoû cannot do much. Do what you can. Angels can do nō mōre.

14.-TITTY MOUSE AND TATTY MOUSE.

Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse lived in a little house.

They both went a gleaning; Titty gleaned an ear of corn, and Tatty gleaned an ear of corn.

Titty Mouse made a pudding, and Tatty Mouse māde a pudding.

Tatty Mouse püt her püdding into the pot to boil; but when Titty Mouse püt her's in, the pot fell ōver and she was scâlded to death!

Then Tatty Mouse sat down and wept; and the three-legged Stool said, "Tatty, why do yoû weep?" and Tatty answered, " Oh! Titty's dead, and so I weep!" Then said the Stool, "I'll hop;" and so the Stool hopped.

Then the Bēṣom in the corner said, "Stool, why do you hop?" "Oh!" said the Stool, "Titty's dead and Tatty weeps, and so I hop." "Well," said the Bēṣom, "then I'll sweep;" and the Bēṣom swept.

And when the Door saw, it said, "Bēṣom, why do you sweep?" "Oh!" said the Bēṣom, "Titty's dead, Tatty weeps, the Stool hops, and I sweep."

"Then," said the Dōor, "I'll jär;" and the Dōor järred. Then said the Window, "Door, why do yoû jär?" "Why," said the Door, "Titty's dead and Tatty weeps, the Stool hops and the Bēṣom sweeps, and sō I jär." Then," said the Window, “I'll creak;" and the Window creaked.

Now there was an ōld Form outside, and it asked, "Window, why do yoû creak?" and the Window answer'd, "Oh! Titty's dead and Tatty weeps, the Stool hops and the Bēṣom sweeps, the Dōor järṣ and the Window creaks." "Then," said the ōld Form, "I'll run round the house;" and so it did.

And when the lärge Wâlnut-tree, that grew in the gärden, saw the Form running round, it said, "Old Form why do you run round the house?" "Oh," said the Form, "Titty's dead and Tatty weeps, the Stool hops and the Bēṣom sweeps, the Dōor järs and the Window creaks, and sō I run round the house." "Well then," said the Wâlnut-tree, "I'll shed my leaves;" and it shed âll its beautiful leaves.

And when the little Bîrd, perched on one of the boughs, saw all the leaves fâll, it said, "Wâlnut-tree, why do you shed your leaves?" "Oh," said the tree, "Titty's dead and Tatty weeps, the Stool hops and the Bēṣom sweeps, the Door järs and the Window creaks, the ōld Form runs about the house, and sō I shed my leaves." "Then," said the little Bîrd, "I'll mōult âll my feathers;" and hē mōulted, âll his pretty feathers.

And just then a little Girl was walking below

carrying milk for her brothers' and sisters' suppers; and when she saw the little Bîrd mōult âll its feathers, she said, "Little Bîrd, why do ÿoû mõult your feathers?" "Oh!" sang the little Bîrd, "Titty's dead and Tatty weeps, the Stool hops and the Bēṣom sweeps, the Door järs and the Window creaks, thē ōld Form runs round the house, the Wâlnut-tree sheds its leaves, and so I mōult my feathers." "Well, then," said the little Gîrl, "I'll spill the milk;" and she let fâll the pitcher and spilt the milk.

Now close by was an ōld Man on the top of a ladder, thatching a stack of corn; and when he saw the little Gîrl spill her milk, hē câll'd out, “Little Girl why have yoû spilt the milk that was for your brothers and sisters' supper?" "Oh!" said the little Girl, "Titty's dead and Tatty weeps, the Stool hops and the Bēṣom sweeps, the Door järs and the Window creaks, the ōld Form runs round the House, the Wâlnut-tree sheds its leaves, the little Bîrd mōults âll its feathers, and so I spilled the milk." 'Oh!" said the ōld Man, "then I'll fall and break my neck;" and so he tumbled down from the ladder and broke his neck.

"

And when thē ōld Man fell, the great Wâlnut-tree fell down with a crash, and upset the ōld Form, and knocked down the House, and the House fâlling thrust the Window out, and the Window knocked down the Door, the Dōor threw down the Bēṣom, the Bēṣom turned the Stool ōver, and poor little Tatty Mouse was buried beneath the rûins!

15. THE CANARY-BIRD.

Dūties unfulfilled are fertile sources of regret and angüish.

A little girl had once à beautiful canary-bîrd. It sang from morning to night and was the delight of the whole house. But âll at once the bîrd began to look dull and heavy, and one morning, when the little gîrl came to feed him, the poor bîrd lay dead at the bottom of the cage. The child mourned grievously for the loss of her little favorite; but her mother brought her another bîrd, which sang aș delightfully as the fîrst, and ēven surpassed it in beauty of color, and put it into the cage. The girl, however, wept still more bitterly when she saw the new bîrd. Her mother was surprised at this, and asked her why she grieved and wept thus. "Your tears," said she, "cannot recâll the dead bîrd to life, and here I have brought you another, in every respect as good as that which was lost." "Ah! my dear mother," replied the gîrl, "I was not sō kind to the poor bîrd as I ought to have been!" "My dear child," answered her mother, "have you not âlways attended him carefülly?" "Alas, no!" said the child. "Just befōre hē died, you gave me a lump of sugar for him, but I eat it myself.” Thus spake the gîrl, and again shē wept. But the mother did not her daughter, for she recognised hōly voice of Nature in the "What," thought she, "must be the feelings of an ungrateful child at the grave of its parents!"

smile at the grief of and reverenced the heart of the child.