ped, looked
around, and waited until Harry had got his hand full of flowers. The child
then saw that Rover had his boat, and tried to get it from him; but Rover
played around him, always keeping out of his reach, and retreating toward
the house, until he got back within the gate. Then he bounded into the
house, and laid the boat at the feet of Harry's mother.

Harry was a little angry with the good old dog, at first, but when his
mother explained to him what Rover meant, he hugged him around the neck,
and said he would never go down to the river again any more.

Harry is a man now, and Rover has long since been dead; but he often thinks
of the dear old dog that saved him from drowning when he was a child; and
it gives him great pleasure to remember that he never beat Rover, as some
boys beat their dogs, when they are angry, and was never unkind to him. Had
it been otherwise, the thought would have given him great pain.

SOMETHING WRONG.

[Illustration: SOMETHING WRONG.]

What's the matter here? There is something wrong. It is clear that the
little boy in the picture is not receiving kind treatment at the hands of
his sister. But what is she doing to him? Not pulling his ear, we hope.
Something is wrong; what can it be? We must try and make it out. There is a
whip and a top on the floor, and also a chair thrown down, to which a
string is tied.

The little boy, we suppose, was whipping his top, while his sister was
playing with the chair.

"Take care, now, Johnny," says the sister, as the lash of her brother's
whip comes every little while close to her face; "take care, or you will
cut me in the eyes."

But Johnny either doesn't hear, or doesn't heed, and keeps on whipping his
top.

"There, now!" says Anna, "you came as near as could be to striking me. I
wish you would go out into the passage or down into the dining-room with
your top."

"John," says mamma, looking up from her work, "you must be careful and not
cut your sister with that whip."

"No, ma'am," replies Johnny, and keeps on with his sport as carelessly as
ever.

Presently there is a cry, and then an angry exclamation. The lash of
Johnny's whip has fallen with a smarting stroke on Anna's neck. The little
girl, without waiting to reflect, follows the impulse of her feelings, and
seeks to punish her brother by pinching and pulling his ears.

This is the story of the picture, and we are sorry it will not bear