suddenly, and landed
Mr. Trout in the boat. He was a fine large fellow, and weighed several
pounds. I hope he did not bite off the end of the boy's nose. I wonder
if the boy would like to try to catch another trout in the same way.

Everybody thought this so funny, that the boy became, for a while, quite
famous, and had his photograph taken, with the mark of the bite on his
nose. This may seem a very tough story, but it is true. The thing took
place only a few miles from where I live.

ELIZABETH SILL.

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AN OLD FABLE.

AN ass, having put on a lion's skin, roamed about in the forest, and
amused himself by frightening all the animals he met with in his
wanderings. At last he met a fox, and tried to frighten him also; but
the fox no sooner heard the sound of his voice than he exclaimed, "I
might have been afraid, if I had not heard you bray."

This fable was written by AEsop, a famous Grecian who lived nearly three
thousand years ago.

A fable is a fictitious story designed to enforce some useful lesson or
moral. See if you can tell the moral of this one.

UNCLE CHARLES.

OUR FLY.

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I WANT to tell "The Nursery" readers about a fly who has lived in my
mamma's room all winter. At night he hides away in some warm place; but,
when the sun shines, he flies all about the room, and acts as if he were
very happy.

When my mamma was sick, he used to fly about her, and make a great
buzzing; and, when the girl brought up her dinner, he would crawl about
the tray as if he were hungry. Mamma would give him some sugar, which he
liked very much.

We missed him once for a whole week. We looked all over the room, but
could not find him anywhere. At last, one day, we saw him on the window
trying to fly, and what do you think? The poor fellow had lost one of
his wings. Mamma said that he must have flown into the gas-light, and
got burnt. She gave him some sugar, and he seemed to feel better for
eating it.

I watched him a long time, and when he had eaten enough he crawled on to
my hand. I took him off, and put him on the window again; but he kept
coming back to my hand, and I think, if he could have spoken, he would
have said, "Thank you, little girl, for my nice dinner."

I will tell you more about him some time.

VIOLA.

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