d Charley took the reins.
"Get up!" said he, and away they went. As they crossed the lawn, they
passed a lawn-mower, and the horse Ned shied badly. If he had not had
such a steady horse as Nell by his side, there might have been an
accident.

As it was, Charles held him in with a tight rein, and the two horses
came trotting back to the starting-point at full speed. If Charles had
had a watch to time them by, I think he would have found that they made
a mile in less than three minutes.

A. B. C.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

JACK.

Jack was not a handsome dog. His best friends could not call him a
beauty; but as he was a very wise, good dog, we were all very fond
of him.

One afternoon, some of the younger members of the family were sitting on
the piazza, waiting for papa, who was expected home on the five-o'clock
train. Jack was lying beside them.

At last, the whistle sounded in the distance; and the little
four-year-old "flower of the family" said, "Run, Jack, to meet papa at
the station." Jack looked up, listened intently for a moment, and then
lay down again with a sigh of disappointment.

"Oh, what a lazy fellow!" said six-year-old Annie. "If mamma would only
trust us to go to the station, we would not wait, or play sleepy." But
the train passed on, and papa had not come.

In a little while, another whistle sounded; and this time, without a
word of command, Jack sprung off the steps, dashed down the street, and
returned in a few moments, escorting his master.

How did Jack know that the time-table had been changed that day, and a
freight-train had taken the place of his master's train?

Another time, an uncle, who was visiting the family, had occasion to
stay in town until the last train. Jack refused to be shut up, and, at
eleven o'clock at night, went in the dark to the station, and escorted
our guest up to the house.

How did he know what train to meet? and what instinct impelled him to
do his part towards keeping up the courtesy of the family?

[Illustration: ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL, LONDON.]

[Illustration]

A LETTER FROM CALIFORNIA.

Here we are in Santa Cruz, in a hotel right on the beach. We had such a
lovely stage-ride over the mountains, and enjoyed the mountain air so
much, that I was almost sorry when we arrived. I wish you could see the
great madrona-trees on the mountains with their dark-red wood and
beautiful green leaves. I do not believe you have