r be sold myself!"

"Take that rabbit to Mr. Blades, and bring back three-and-six," said
Harry's father, in a stern voice.

He felt as if to part with that rabbit would kill him; but he knew it
had to be done. I don't know how he managed to do it. What he suffered
was terrible, yet he was sure there was no escape; so he put his pet
rabbit into a basket and took it to Mr. Blades the butcher. There, in
the picture, you can see him.

[Illustration: "HE ... TOOK IT TO MR. BLADES."]

"You won't kill her, will you, Mr. Blades?" he faltered, for the sight
of the knives in the shop was too much for him.

Harry has learned a hard lesson. Don't you hope Edgar will buy that
rabbit for him again? I do.

L. A.

Our Music Page

"_Dignity and Impudence._"

_Words from_ "LITTLE FOLKS." _Music by_ BURNHAM W. HORNER.

_In moderate time._

_Music by_ BURNHAM W. HORNER.

[Illustration: music]

1. Said a wee little bird, with a pert little look,
To an adjutant stork by the river--"I suppose
that you think you're as wise as a book,
And in fact that you're wondrously clever! You're a
picture of dignity, that I'll admit,
But alas! that is all I'll allow, ... For indeed
you're not quarter as wise as a tit,
That hops to and fro on the bough."

2.

Said the adjutant-stork to the wee little bird,
With a dignified kind of a stare--
"Little creatures like you should be seen and not heard,
And your impudence well we can spare!
You had better by far go back to your nest,
And be pert where they'll heed what you do;
For you see that in height I'm six feet and the rest,
While you are just no feet two!"

3.

So it is with us all as we pass through the day:
For we each of us think we're most clever--
Whether impudent bird that chatters away,
Or "Dignity" stork by the river.
On our size or our form or our talents we pose,
And we hold ourselves up every hour:
If the Queen of the Garden be known as the Rose,
Then we are that wonderful flower!

THE EDITOR'S POCKET-BOOK.

JOTTINGS AND PENCILLINGS, HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE

[Illustration]

How a Dog saved its Blind Master.

Some time since, a blind gentleman, well known in the north of England,
went for a walk of several miles, accompanied by his dog. He knew the
road so well, that he did not strap up the dog, but let it run loose. He
had gone nearly five miles on his way, and was cro