paw, the dog did not do it as
quickly as he ought to have done.

Did Harry beat him for that? No, indeed. Did he say, "Never mind,
Prince, you need not obey me if you do not want to?" No, indeed, again.

He sat up himself, and then he made Prince sit up on his hind legs. Then
he ordered Prince to give his paw. Prince did so. Then Harry made him
do it again, then again and again and again, until the dog seemed to
understand that he must learn to obey when he was spoken to.

After Prince appeared to have learned that lesson quite perfectly, Harry
taught him something new.

He taught him to stand on his hind legs and hold a pipe in his mouth.

This he soon did so well that Harry clapped his hands and cried,
"Good, good, you smoke as well as his royal highness, the Black Prince,
himself."

Which remark showed that Harry had not yet begun to study history. If
he had, he would have known that in the country where the Black Prince
lived, tobacco was never heard of until many, many, MANY years after his
death.

STRINGING CRANBERRIES.

Arthur Bancroft was feeling very cross one morning in December. He had
a bad cold, and his mother did not think it would be wise for him to go
out-of-doors. That was why he was cross. The skating was finer than it
had been that season; every other boy he knew was enjoying it.

He walked about the house with a very sulky face; would take no notice
of books or games, and seemed determined to be miserable.

He was standing looking out of the window when his sister Laura
came into the room. Laura carried in her hand a basket filled with
cranberries.

She put the basket on the table, took a needle from her mother's needle
book, threaded it with a long, stout thread, and began stringing the
berries.

Laura was a dear little thing! She was always busy. No one ever heard
her say, "I wish I had something to do." And she was generally doing
something for some one else.

She made a sweet little picture as she sat bending over the basket of
crimson cranberries. Some such idea may have come into Arthur's mind
as he turned and looked at her. As he watched her silently for some
moments, the cross expression on his face became a little less cross.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Stringing cranberries for the Mullins' Christmas tree," answered Laura.
"Don't you want to help me?"

"It's girls' work," replied Arthur.

"Isn't a boy smart enough to do a girl's work?" asked Laura.

"Of