ge
to say, they knew what the sound meant, but I could never teach them
to ring it, when they could rise and steal the worm from my hand
without. But I am inclined to think it was more laziness than
inability to learn, as they afterward picked up readily some much more
difficult tricks. I taught them to leap from the water into my hand,
and lie as if dead; and having arranged a slide of polished wood upon
the bank, by placing worms upon it I soon had them leaping out and
sliding down like so many boys coasting in the winter. That they
afterward did it for amusement I know, as I often watched them
unobserved when there was nothing to attract but the fun of sliding.
This kind of amusement is not uncommon with many other animals,
particularly seals, which delight in making "slides" on the icy
shores.

[ILLUSTATION]

THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH

BY MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.

Old Granny Cricket's rocking-chair,
Creakety-creak, creakety-creak!--
Back and forth, and here and there,
Squeakety-squeak, squeakety-squeak!--
On the hearth-stone, every night,
Rocks and rocks in the cheery light.
Little old woman, dressed in black,
With spindling arms and a crooked back,
She sits with a cap on her wise old head,
And her eyes are fixed on the embers red;
She does not sing, she does not speak,
But the rocking-chair goes creakety-creak!

Cheerily sounds the rocking-chair,
Creakety-creak, creakety-creak!--
While it swings in the firelight there,
Squeakety-squeak, squeakety-squeak!
Old Granny Cricket, rocking, rocking,
Knits and knits on a long black stocking.
No matter how swiftly her fingers fly,
She never can keep her family,
With their legs so long from foot to knee,
Stockinged as well as they ought to be;
That's why, at night, week after week,
Her rocking-chair goes squeakety-squeak!

* * * * *

HOW I WEIGHED THE THANKSGIVING TURKEY.

BY G. M. SHAW.

"Here, sir! Please take this bird around to Albro's, and see how much
it weighs."

The idea! What would the folks over the way say, to see the
"professor" walking out with a big turkey under his arm? That was the
way the thing presented itself to the good-natured college-student
acting as private tutor in the family. But Mrs. Simpson, the portly
and practical housewife, had no such idea of the fitness of things.

It was the day before Thanksgiving, a