The leopard is smaller than the panther; but resembles him in form; his colour is brighter, and the spots on his skin are smaller, and so disposed as to resemble the print of the animals foot. The circular spots or rings on the panther have frequently a spot in the middle; those of the leopard have none. He is very beautiful, and his skin is much prized. He preys, like the panther, on antelopes, sheep, monkeys, and other animals. He abounds in the interior of Africa, and is found in many parts of Asia.

ANECDOTES.

It used to be said that the leopard could be caught by a trap with a mirror so contrived, that the animal, on seeing the reflection of himself in the mirror, would imagine that he had met with an enemy, and so attack it; upon which the trap would spring and secure him.

I have heard of a boy, who had never seen a mirror, till one day, being in a great passion, he happened to pass one. He thought the image he saw was another boy, and it looked so wicked, that he was very much alarmed. He lifted his stick to defend himself, when the boy in the glass lifted his

stick also. He took this for a challenge, and struck at the imaginary boy, thus dashing the mirror in pieces. The leopard, then, is not alone in disliking his own angry face, so long as he thinks it belongs to some body else.

In the year 1708, two of these animals, a male and female, with three young ones, broke into a sheepfold at the Cape of Good Hope. They killed nearly an hundred sheep, and regaled themselves with the blood; after which they tore a carcass into three pieces, and gave one of these to each of their offspring; they then took each a whole sheep, and thus laden, began to retire; but having been observed, they were waylaid on their return, and the female and the young ones were killed, while the male effected his escape.

DIFFERENT STATIONS IN LIFE.

Little Sally Norton had been one day to pay an afternoon's visit to Miss Harriet, the daughter of Mr. Pemberton. The evening proved rainy, she was sent home in Mr. Pemberton's coach; and on her return, the following conversation passed between her and her mother.

Mrs. Norton. Well, my dear, I hope you have had a pleasant visit.

Sally. Oh yes, mother, very pleasant: you cannot think what a great many fine things I have seen. And then, it is so charming to ride in coach.

Mrs. N. I suppose all her playthings

Miss Harriet showed you

Sally. Oh yes, such fine large dolls, so smartly dressed, as I never saw in my life before. Then she has a baby house, and all sorts of furniture in it And she showed me all her fine clothes for the next ball; there's a white frock all full of spangles and pink ribbons; you can't think how beautiful it looks.

Mrs. N. And what did you admire most, of all these fine things?

Sally. I don't know, I admired them all; and I think I like riding in the coach better than all the rest. Why don't we keep a coach, mother? and why have not I such fine clothes as Miss Harriet?

Mrs. N. Because we cannot afford it, my dear; your papa is not so rich by a great deal, as Mr. Pemberton; and if we were to lay out our money upon such things, we should not be able to pay for food and clothes, and other necessaries for you all. Sally. But why is not papa as rich as Mr. Pem

berton?

Mrs. N. Mr. Pemberton had a large fortune left to him by his father; but all the money your papa has, he gains by his own industry.

Sally. But why should not papa be as rich as any body else? I am sure he deserves it as well. Mrs. N. Do you not think that there are a great many people poorer than your papa, who are quite as good?

Sally. Are there?

Mrs. N. Yes, to be sure. Don't you know what a number of poor people there are, all around us, who have very few of the comforts we enjoy? What do you think of Jones the laborer? I believe you never saw him idle in

your life.

Sally. No; he is gone to work long before I am up, and he does not return till almost bed-time, unless it be for his dinner.

Mrs. N. Well, how do you think his wife and children live? Should you like that we should change places with them?

Sally. Oh no! they are so poorly clothed.

Mrs. N. They are indeed poor creatures, but I am afraid they suffer worse evils than that. Sally. What, mother?

Mrs. N. Why, I am afraid they do not often get as much victuals to eat as they want. And then in winter they must suffer for want of fire, and warm clothes. How do you think you could bear all this?

Sally. Indeed I don't know. But I have seen Jone's wife carry great brown loaves into the house; and I remember once eating some brown bread and milk, and I thought it very good.

Mrs. N. I believe you would not much like it constantly; besides, Jones' children can hardly get enough of that. But you seem to know almost as little of the poor as the young French princess did.

Sally. What was that mother?

Mrs. N. There was one year so little food in France, that numbers of poor people were starved to death. This was mentioned before the king's daughters. "Dear me," said one of the princesses, "how silly that was; why rather than be starved, I would eat bread and cheese." She was then told that the greatest part of the people in France, scarcely ever eat any thing better than black bread all their lives; and that many would

there think themselves very happy to get enough of that. The young princess was sorry for this; and she parted with some of her fine things, that she might help the poor.

Sally. I hope there is nobody starved in our country.

Mrs. N. I hope not; if any cannot work for a living, it is our duty to assist them.

Sally. Do you think it was wrong for Miss Harriet to have all those fine things? The money which they cost might have relieved many poor people.

Mrs. N. Miss Harriet has money enough to be charitable to the poor, and to indulge herself in such things as she likes. Might not the children of Mr. White, the baker, and Mr. Sharp the tailor, ask if little Sally Norton should be indulged in her pleasures? Are you not better dressed than they are, and is not your baby house better furnished than theirs?

Sally. Why, I believe so; I remember Polly White was very glad of one of my old dolls, and Nancy Shape cried for such a sash as mine, but her mother would not let her have one.

Mrs. N. Then you see, my dear, that there are many, who have fewer things to be thankful for than you have. Every thing ought to suit the station in which we live, or are likely to live. Your papa and I are willing to lay out part of our money for the pleasure of our children; but it would be wrong in us to lay out so much, that we should not leave enough to pay for your education, and some other necessary articles Besides, you