kened from his after-dinner sleep,
and finding out that his monkey had been into mischief, concluded that
it was best to be off. He was not seen in the village any more.

Aunt Thankful kept school afterwards for several years, and then age
compelled her to give up her office. About that time, and just when
she wanted it most, one of the inhabitants of our village left her
three thousand dollars in his will, as a "mark of his esteem." Surely
never was charity more properly bestowed, or more gratefully received.
I don't think there was a person in the world who envied her the gift,
or thought it undeserved.

M. H.

[Decoration]

[Illustration: {The children at the bottom of the basement steps}]

HOW A GOOD DINNER WAS LOST.

Ting a ling ling! a ling ling! ling ling! ling! So went the dinner
bells--first mamma's, then Mrs. Green's, Mrs. Brown's, Mrs. White's,
and all the other neighbors' with colored names. It was everybody's
dinner hour; and by the way, is it not funny how everybody gets hungry
together?

Dinner was to be eaten at the healthy, good old-fashioned hour of
noon, between the two sessions of school. The children were just fresh
from slates, with long, crooked rows of hard figures, and heavy
atlases, with unpronounceable towns and rivers that would not be found
out. There were chickens and dough-balls for dinner. The smell of them
made the children ravenous; and they very nearly tripped up Maria and
her platter in their haste to reach the table.

Mamma looked around to see if they were all there, and counted on her
fingers,--

"Baby, Jelly, Tiny--Tiny, where's Bunch?"

"Why, I thought she was in the kitchen," said Tiny, looking wistfully
at the tempting drumsticks. "Papa, won't you please help us little
folks first--just to-day? 'cause we're so awful hungry."

[Illustration: {A bunch of poppy heads}]

"Tiny, I do believe that Bunch has gone down to the Midgetts'. You
must go and find her before you eat your dinner; and hurry, now."

"O, dear! can't she hear the dinner bell just as well as I can?" and
off flew Tiny, with the streamers of her jockey standing straight out
behind her, and her new buttoned shoes spattering water from every
mud-puddle in her way.

We were not invited; so we can't stay to dinner; but perhaps we will
have time to learn something about the little ones while Tiny is
hunting her tardy sister Bunch.

Her name