ith the lamb
this morning that he has suffered himself to be called three times to
attend Mr. Spicer, his writing-master, before he made any reply, and
when he did come, I am sorry to say that the blots in his copy-book
showed that his attention was not fixed upon his employment. After some
reproof he acknowledged his fault, and wrote another copy in his very
best manner.

'I have now finished the account of the most remarkable transactions of
this week, and though I am sensible that it exposes the levity and
thoughtlessness of my pupils, I flatter myself that there are some marks
in the disposition of each which promise improvement and more caution
for the time to come.'

Ellen and George

or

The Game at Cricket

'Sit down, Ellen,' said Mrs. Danvers to a lovely little girl of seven
years of age, who was constantly jumping up to the window, instead of
continuing to look at the book she was holding in her hand, but Ellen
continued to look anywhere rather than at her book, and her mother began
to feel angry.

The sun shone very brightly; it was a fine day in the month of June, and
little Ellen thought it very hard that she was obliged to sit in the
house instead of running about the fields with her brother George.

George was at home for the holidays; he was a fine boy of about nine
years of age, and very fond of his sister Ellen; he would very often
leave his companions to play with Ellen at quieter games than such as he
engaged in with them, and Ellen was delighted when he would thus indulge
her; but on this morning George was with a party of young lads, somewhat
older than himself, who were engaged in a game of cricket, and poor
Ellen was obliged to go through her morning's task without him.

'Should you not like to go and see George play by-and-by?' said Mrs.
Danvers.

'I should like it very much, mother,' replied Ellen in a tone of
delight.

'Then mind your book now,' said her mother, 'and we will afterwards walk
down to the cricket-field together. Father will be at home then,
perhaps, and we shall have a nice walk together.'

For a few minutes Ellen looked in her book; she was very fond of her
father and of walking out with him, but not even this promised scheme of
pleasure could prevent her eyes from wandering every five minutes to the
window, and at length a shout from the boys, who were in the field
adjoining the house, entirely overcame her resolution, and again she
made a sudden spring