ar
that the young man had thrown himself into the water because he was sick
of life, but I dare say he was glad enough to be pulled out.

Mr. Cooper took him home, gave him a room and a bed, and there Mr.
Simpson staid for some time. He was what is called an artist. He had a
great talent for drawing with a pen and ink. He taught Amy to do this.
She soon did it so well, that he said to her, "Keep on trying, my dear,
and it may be a great help to you by and by."

Sure enough she did keep on trying. Her one thought was to do so well
that she could make money by her art. Poor Mr. Simpson died after he had
staid with the honest fisherman two years; and his last words to Amy
were, "Keep on practising, my dear: don't let a day pass without it. I
am sure you will make an artist."

Amy had followed his advice; and now, when her father was ill, she
resolved to see if she could riot, turn her art to account. She made
twenty sketches with pen and ink. They were sketches of fishermen--drawn
from life; and they were done with a spirit and skill that struck every
one with surprise.

[Illustration]

Taking the specimens with her, she went to Dover, and showed them to the
ladies and gentlemen. At last one gentleman, a Mr. Ritson, who was rich,
and fond of art, said to her, "Don't try to humbug me, little girl. Yon
never did this work. Come in, and let me test you."

"Do it," said Amy, bravely and confidently.

He took her into the reading-room of the hotel, and in a few minutes she
produced a likeness of Mr. Ritson, which made him cry out, "Bravo,
bravo, little girl! You have done it! Forgive my suspicions. Here is a
guinea for what you have done. Come here to-morrow at this time, and I
will see what I can do to help you."

Amy, wild with joy, took the money home to her father. The prosperity of
the family was now assured. Mr. Ritson proved to be a true friend. He
showed Amy's sketches to a great many persons, and praised them so
highly, that she soon began to have orders.

She continued to improve, and in time became quite a successful artist.
She had as much work as she could do, and earned more in a month than
her father could earn in a year. He soon got well, and lived to take
great comfort in the fame of his dear little girl.

ALFRED SELWYN.

* * * * *

JOHNNY AND THE TOAD.

JOHNNY.

I want to go to school,
And he won't let me pass;
I think that a toad
Ought to