se severely, "and what shall you say if, by your mischievous
doings, you have hurt your sister!"

Master Tom's soul was filled with terror.

"I don't know how it may end," continued Nurse, "but the best thing you
can do is to go downstairs and sit in the dining-room till master and
mistress come home. Go away from here."

And Nurse shut the door and bolted it; and Tom, feeling more miserable
than he had ever felt in his life, went away, but not to the
dining-room.

He went to his own little room, where, with a white face, he watched,
till his mother came home. He would tell her everything, and he knew
that she would let him just look at Ettie before he went to bed. And he
said to himself--

"I will never get into mischief again."

It was a good resolve; let us hope that he kept it.

THE MAIDS AND THE MAGPIE.

Three little maids and a magpie
Went out one day for a walk;
The little maids hunted for flowers,
The magpie did nothing but talk.

"I've three little maidens to care for,
Each one from dangers to save--
Wild dogs or runaway horses--
What a good thing I am brave!"

Soon they were laden with flowers--
Bunches of red, white, and blue;
Great ox-eyed, snowy-leaved daisies,
Harebells, and bright poppies too.

Then they turned homeward together,
Magpie still hopping before,
Passed through the wood and the village,
Came to the rectory door.

There stood a quiet grey pussy--
Magpie flew off in a fright.
So, after all his vain boasting,
Proved himself coward--not knight!

FRANCES HAY.

CHILDREN'S GAMES IN DAYS OF OLD.

[Illustration]

Both my little nieces had been unwell. They were not very ill, but they
were shut up in one room for a time, and they found it rather difficult
to amuse themselves all day long, without having their lessons to do or
their brothers to play with. I told them a tale every afternoon, when
the light was getting dim, and the fire was poked into a bright blaze;
but I came to the end of my store at last.

"Oh, auntie! what shall we do now if you can't tell us any more
stories?" said Maggie. "We read such a lot that we really don't want to
be read to."

"Let us have a nice talk," I said.

"But what shall we talk about?" asked Edith, looking into the fire, as
if she could read something there. "Oh, I know, auntie! tell us about
the time when you were a