didn't."

"Yes, father."

"And Squire Burchard saw the cent, and knew what to do with it; you
didn't."

"Yes, father."

"And the lady saw your puppy, and knew what to do with it, and you
didn't, nor I either. And I saw the gray horse, and knew what to do with
him; the rest didn't."

"But I don't know what to do with the pig's town lot."

"No, nor Mr. Corrigan didn't, nor I either; but the man from town that's
just bought the old tavern is going to build it over new, and wants to
buy that lot to build on. I tell you what, Ben, my boy, there isn't much
in this world that's worth having unless somebody comes along that knows
what to do with it."

"Ben!" suddenly exclaimed his mother, as she looked out of the window,
"there's that pig out in the garden!"

"Jump, Ben," said his father. "If he gets into your patch of
musk-melons, he'll know just exactly what to do with them."

Before Ben got the pig out of the garden, the pig learned that Ben knew
exactly what to do with a big stick.

MISS VAN WINKLE'S NAP.

BY MRS. W. J. HAYS.

CHAPTER I.

"Mamma, will you please listen a moment?"

"How can I, Quillie dear? just see how busy I am," answered mamma,
turning over a letter she was writing, while a man was bringing in
trunks from the store-room, and another man was waiting for orders, and
through a vista of open doorways was seen a dress-maker at work upon
gingham slips and linen blouses.

"If you please, ma'am, a bit of edging will look none the worse on these
cambrics, and the flannels need a touch of scarlet; even the wild
flowers have vanity enough for a little color of their own."

"True enough, Ellen. Well, get your samples ready. Now, Quillie, I am
going to address this letter, and then I promise to listen to you."

Quillie sighed--she found it so difficult to wait when she had so much
to say. But she only fidgeted a little as mamma scrawled off an address
in letters which Quillie thought would cover half her copy-book, then
the little taper was lighted, the wax was melted, the pretty crest was
imprinted on the seal, and mamma turned with a relieved smile to the
little girl.

"Well, Quillie, what is it?"

"It's only this, mamma," began Quillie, impetuously: "I want to take a
friend to the country with us."

"Who is the friend? why can not she go with her own people?" said mamma.

"Now, mammy dear, please don't hurry me; you know madame, our French
teacher at school, has a little girl ab