shed; and he said, "Is this the sullen Elinor?
what has worked this miracle?" "Ask no questions," she replied, "or
you will disturb our new-born friendship. Elinor has promised to love
me, and she says too that she will call me 'mamma.'" "Yes, I will,
mamma, mamma, mamma," I replied, and hung about her with the greatest
fondness.

After this she used to pass great part of the mornings with me in my
mother's room, which was now made the repository of all my playthings,
and also my school-room. Here my new mamma taught me to read. I was a
sad little dunce, and scarcely knew my letters; my own mamma had often
said, when she got better she would hear me read every day, but as she
never got better it was not her fault. I now began to learn very fast,
for when I said my lesson well, I was always rewarded with some pretty
story of my mother's childhood; and these stories generally contained
some little hints that were instructive to me, and which I greatly
stood in want of; for, between improper indulgence and neglect, I had
many faulty ways.

In this kind manner my mother-in-law has instructed and improved me,
and I love her because she was my mother's friend when they were
young. She has been my only instructress, for I never went to school
till I came here. She would have continued to teach me, but she has
not time, for she has a little baby of her own now, and that is the
reason I came to school.

V

MARGARET GREEN

(_By Mary Lamb_)

My father has been dead near three years. Soon after his death, my
mother being left in reduced circumstances, she was induced to accept
the offer of Mrs. Beresford, an elderly lady of large fortune, to live
in her house as her companion, and the superintendent of her family.
This lady was my godmother, and as I was my mother's only child, she
very kindly permitted her to have me with her.

Mrs. Beresford lived in a large old family mansion; she kept no
company, and never moved except from the breakfast-parlour to the
eating-room, and from thence to the drawing-room to tea.

Every morning when she first saw me, she used to nod her head very
kindly, and say, "How do you do, little Margaret?" But I do not
recollect she ever spoke to me during the remainder of the day; except
indeed after I had read the psalms and the chapters, which was my
daily task; then she used constantly to observe, that I improved in
my reading, and frequently added, "I never heard a child read so
disti