ay, "Cluck, cluck,
cluck! You've all been good chickens while I was away; have you? Well,
now, we'll see what a good dinner we can pick up."

Out they rushed, pell-mell, as glad to be let out of their prison, and
as pleased to see their mother again, as so many boys and girls would
have been.

Well, day after day, this same thing happened. It came to be a regular
morning performance; and we hardly knew what to make of it, until one
day we followed old Mother Shanghai, and discovered her secret.

She had begun to lay eggs again, and was afraid some harm would come to
her young family if she left them out in the field while she was in the
barn on her nest. So she took this way of keeping them out of danger.

Of course, what she said to her brood when she left them must have been,
"My dears, my duties now call me away from you for a little while; and
you must stay right here, where no harm can come to you, till I come
back. Good-by!" And then off she would march as dignified and earnest as
you please.

She did this for a number of weeks, until she thought her young folks
were old and wise enough to be trusted out alone. Then she let them take
care of themselves.

This is a true story.

EAST DORSET, VT. M. H. F.

[Illustration]

JOHN RAY'S PERFORMING DOGS.

THERE was once a little boy whose name was John Ray, and who lived near
a large manufacturing town in England. When only seven years old, he
fell from a tree, and was made a cripple for life.

His father, who was a sailor, was lost at sea soon afterwards; and
then, John's mother dying, the little boy was left an orphan. He was
nine years of age when he went to live with Mrs. Lamson, his aunt,--a
poor woman with a large family of young children.

It was a sad thought to John that he could not work so as to help his
good aunt. It was his frequent prayer that he might do something so as
not to be a burden to her; but for a long time he could not think of any
thing to do.

One day a stray dog came to the house; and John gave him a part of his
dinner. The dog liked the attention so well, that he staid near the
house, and would not be driven off. Every day John gave him what he
could spare.

One day, John said to him, "Doggie, what is your name? Is it Fido? Is it
Frisk? Is it Nero? Is it Nap? Is it Tiger? Is it Toby? Is it Plato? Is
it Pomp?"

When John uttered the word "Pomp," the dog began to bark; and John s