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3. The Lily's height bespoke command,
A fair, imperial flower;

She seemed designed for Flora's* hand,
The sceptre of her power.

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4. This civil bickering and debate

The goddess chanced to hear,
And flew to save, ere yet too late,
The pride of the parterre.

5. "Yours is," she said, "the nobler hue,
And yours the statelier mien;

And, till a third surpasses you,
Let each be deemed a queen."

MORAL.

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Let no mean jealousies pervert' your mind
A blemish in another's fame to find:

Be grateful for the gifts that you possess,
Nor deem a rival's merit makes yours less.

1 ASPIRING. Aiming to reach.
DISDAIN. Haughtiness, scorn.
BESPOKE. Betokened, showed.
4 IMPERIAL. Denoting the highest au-
thority, regal, kingly.

5 BICKERING. Quarrelling, conten

tion, wrangling.

6 PARTERRE. A system of flower-beds of different sizes.

7 PERVERT. Turn from the truth.

ERE the morning's busy ray
Call you to your work away,
Ere the silent evening close
Your wearied eyes in sweet repose,
To lift your heart and voice in prayer,
Be your first and latest care.

* Flora, the goddess of flowers and gardens.

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1. ONE Sunday Arthur was left at home alone, while all the rest of the family attended church. Instead of observing the day as he should, by the quiet perusal' of some good book, he made it a day of self

amusement.

2. As soon as all were gone, he began to search through the nooks and corners of the time-honored dwelling. The garret was explored, and many rare curiosities discovered." Ancient desks and drawers were examined, revealing their contents to his impertinent and childish curiosity.

3. An old clock stood in the corner, with a tall, gaunt,' brown case. Within the dark closet Arthur had often. peered, but he had not been allowed to examine very closely the mysteries' of the clock-case. Now was a fine opportunity. He opened the narrow door. The long pendulum was swinging back and forth at regular intervals, with a loud tick, tick, tick. Two long tin weights, and two very little lead weights, were hanging by small cords.

4. Arthur had seen his father "wind up the clock," and he knew it was done by pulling down the little weights. "It must be rare sport," he thought, "to wind up the old clock." the old clock." He would make the attempt.

at any rate. So, taking hold of the small weight, he tugged away right manfully. The wheels purred, and the great weight began to rise.

5. "Faster," said Arthur; "go up faster!" and giving a sudden pull, the cord broke, and down came the heavy weight with a loud noise! There was a terrible whirring among the clock-wheels for a moment, and then it stopped. The ticking ceased, and then the pendulum stood still.

6. "O, what have I done now?" cried Arthur, in distress. "O, what will father say to me, when he sees what I have done?" Arthur closed the clockdoor, and for the remainder of the day, until his parents returned, was a humble, quiet boy.

7. When his father returned, on looking at the old clock, he perceived that it had stopped. Opening the clock-door, he saw that the cord of one of the weights had broken, and that the weight had fallen to the bottom of the case.

8. "How is this, Arthur? Did you know that the clock had stopped?"

9. "Yes, sir," replied Arthur. "I heard a great noise in the clock-case, and when I went and looked in, the weight had fallen."

10. Arthur's father made no more inquiries, supposing that it was an accidental occurrence. Night came, and little Arthur went to bed as usual. His father had tied the cord, and the clock was now ticking loudly as ever. To Arthur its ticking was louder than ever. It seemed to say, in the silence of the night, "Boy! boy! boy! A lie! a lie! a lie! Own it! own it!

own it!"

11. Arthur did not sleep much. Conscience whis

pered to him, and, with the words of the old clock, said," Arthur, you have told a lie."

12. Early in the morning he arose, and gazed up into the face of the old clock. It looked very sternly at him. "Quick! quick!" said the clock. So the boy went to his father, and told all, with a very sorrowful heart. His father freely forgave him, and Arthur prayed that God would also forgive him, and keep him, hereafter, from the sin of falsehood.

13. Children, never tell an untruth. Lying is a low vice, and very wicked.

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1. In the year 1813, a piratical schooner was wrecked upon one of the desolate Keys' of the Bahamas. The captain alone, of a crew of ninety men, reached the shore upon a broken spar. For several months, he subsisted upon shell-fish and tropical fruits, with which the island abounded, eked out by some provisions saved from the wreck.

2. While in this solitude, feelings which had long slumbered were awakened in his breast, and his heart was melted to repentance.

3. After long months of watching he was rescued by a passing vessel, bound for Spain. A pardon was at length obtained for him, from the Spanish government, and he ever after lived a Christian life.

4. But what thus wrought upon the heart of the sav age, hardened in crime and blood? "Fear," I hear you exclaim, "heightened by that terrible solitude; death groans and piteous entreaties for mercy that haunted each lonely ravine, and moaned in the winds of midnight." O, no; it was but the evening song of the turtle-doves which built their nests among the mangrove bushes that fringed the borders of creeks.

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5. Behold him as he stands! that man of brawl and battle, his stern features unmoved as the cliffs beside him, gazing upon the bodies of the companions of many a bloody fray, tossed amid the fragments of broken timbers in the surf" at his feet.

6. What a mingling of the elements of agony and fear!-the abyss" of ocean, the lonely wreck, the livid' bodies of the dead, the desolate shore, himself cut off from all human fellowship, a stinging conscience within, and the eternal God above him, whose lightnings play around his head. All these move him not.

7. But hark! As those bird-notes, so sweetly mournful, strike upon his ear, familiar through many an hour of careless boyhood in his early home, the blood flushes to his cheek and lip; the sweat bedews his brow.

8. Those soft notes recall the days of innocence, ere blood had stained his hand, and remorse was gnawing at his heart-strings. The low tones of a mother's prayer thrill, like some forgotten melody, upon his ear. Again her lips are pressed to his, as when she kissed him for the last time, upon his father's threshold."o

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