for a sale in the neighbourhood, for some charity. Her loss of the globes is a great disappointment; her present from William, was a little ivory pear, containing seven others, and in the last a small set of tea-things-an ingenious toy.

She was much amused at the theatre, and was astonished at the tiers of heads in the pit and boxes, as she had never before seen so many people

assembled.

Now you find that we are at home, I hope you will not delay coming, to give Emma the kiss of reconciliation, and the pleasure of your company Your affectionate Sister,

to

EMILY WALFORD.

P. S.-A partial mother finds excuses for her children when no other person can; but although Emma was eight years old on Thursday, you know how much her delicate health has interfered with her studies.

THE REWARD OF TRUTH.

"I WISH I had not acknowledged that I did it;" said little Emma Burton, as with streaming eyes she turned from the window and began to apply herself to her lessons; "Caroline is now happy, yet she has no more right to be so than I have."

The day on which Emma made these mournful reflections was her birth-day; a period which had long been looked forward to both by herself and her brothers and sisters, as one of exquisite enjoyment. As it took place in the middle of July, her mamma had promised, as a reward for her general good behaviour, that she should have a little rural fête. They were to take provisions with them, dine in the wood, and in the evening to call at old Margery's cottage, where they were to be regaled with some of her fine strawberries and cream. My readers will

readily believe that this day was anxiously expected by the young folks; they began a month before to count the number of days, and even hours which must intervene. The day at length arrived, the sun shone brightly, the birds sang their liveliest songs, and every thing promised unalloyed happiness; yet by one act of disobedience had Emma forfeited her claim to share it, and was doomed to stay at home alone, whilst her brothers and sisters were enjoying themselves.

On the previous evening, Mrs. Burton was engaged with a party of friends, and the children were permitted to amuse themselves in the garden, in one part of which stood a green-house filled with the choicest flowers. The young people had been repeatedly forbidden by their parents to play near this spot, lest they should break the windows, and thus perhaps materially injure the plants within. After having amused themselves by watering the flowers in their own little garden, Emma (who was just seven years old), accompanied by her elder sister, Caroline, proceeded to the lawn with the intention of playing at battledore and shuttlecock; finding it, however, pre-occupied by their brothers, who were playing at cricket, Caroline proposed that they should go and play in front of the green-house,

N

where they would have plenty of room, and be out of their brothers' way.

"But you know, Caroline," said Emma, "that mamma has often told us not to play there."

"Ch! never mind,” replied Caroline, "she will not know of it; beside, the only reason of our being forbidden to play there, is the fear of our breaking the windows, and we can take care not to do that."

Emma still hesitated; she at last, however, yielded to her sister's persuasion. For a long time they continued playing in perfect safety, till in an unlucky moment Caroline tossed the shuttlecock close to the window; Emma had prepared to strike it with great force, but missing it she struck the window, and shivered it into a thousand pieces. Afraid to enter the green-house to ascertain the extent of the mischief they had done, they ran away to a distant part of the garden.

"Oh! what shall we do!" sobbed Emma; "mamma will be so angry with -she has so

often told us not to go there."

us-s

Caroline, who was an affectionate girl, was almost as much grieved at the affliction of Emma, as at the accident itself, and endeavoured to console her by saying that she might never find it out.

"She will be sure to find it out," said Emma, "and then what will she think of us for not telling her of it; if she asks us, we cannot deny that we did it."

"No, certainly not," replied Caroline; "but she will be occupied to-morrow morning in preparing for our fête, and will very likely not see it."

Emma felt that she was doing wrong in not confessing at once to her mamma that she had disobeyed her orders; but the fear of being deprived of her next day's pleasure overcame her better feelings, and she resolved to remain silent, hoping that the accident would not be discovered.

The young folks rose early the next morning, eager to prepare for their expedition, and at ten o'clock were all assembled in the drawing-room, waiting for their mamma. In the joy and bustle of this happy morning, Caroline and Emma had forgotten the accident of the preceding evening; but as soon as they saw their mamma enter with a serious countenance, they at once remembered their fault, and knew that she had discovered it.

"My dear children," said she, "I have been in the green-house this morning to gather a nosegay of choice flowers for Emma, this being her birth-day, and have discovered that one of the windows is