their own weight. If you fall, little lambs, you will not be hurt, for there is spread un'-der you a car-pet of soft grass, it is spread on pur-pose to re-ceive' you. The but'-ter-flies flut'-ter from bush to bush, and open their wings to the warm sun. The young an'-i-mals of every kind are sport'-ing a-bout'; they feel them-selves hap'-py, they are glad to be a-live', they thank him that has made them a-live'.

They may thank him in their hearts, but we can thank him with our tongues; we are bet'-ter than they, and can praise him bet'-ter.

The birds can war'-ble, and the young lambs can bleat; but we can open our lips in his praise; we can speak of all his good'-ness; there'-fore we will thank him for our-selves', and we will thank him for those that can'-not speak. Trees that blos'-som, and lambs that skip a-bout', if you could,

could, you

would say

how

good he is, but you are dumb, we will say it

for you; we will not of'-fer you in sac'-ri-fice, but we will of'-fer sac'-ri-fice for you. On every hill, and in every green field, we will offer the sac ́-ri-fice of thanks'-giv-ing and the in'-cense of praise.

THE SEASONS.

There are four seasons in the year,—spring, sum'-mer, au'-tumn, and win'-ter. In spring, the far-mer ploughs his fields, and sōws them; the birds build their nests, lay eggs, and hatch them; they had been si'-lent in win'-ter, but now they re-new' their cheer'-ful songs; the fruit trees are in blos'-som, and all na'-ture as-sumes' a gay as'-pect. In sum'-mer, the weath'-er gets very hot and sul'-try, the days are long, and for a week or two there is scarce'ly any dark'-ness; there is thun'-der and light'ning, and heav'-y show'-ers; the trees are all o'-ver with leaves, and while some kinds of fruit be-gin' to ripen, oth'-er kinds are quite

read'-y for eat'-ing; flow'-ers a-bound' in the gardens and the fields; the corn of all sorts, that was sown in spring, gröōws green and strong, and shoots into the ear, and ap-pears' to turn whi'-tish; ev'-er-y plant at-tains' the full vig'-our of its growth; and the coun'-try wears its rich'-est garb.

In au'-tumn, all the crops get ripe, and are cut down with scythes and sic'-kles; ap'-ples, fil-berts, and other things of that kind are taken down from the trees, as ful-ly read'-y for being pulled; the flow'-ers fade by de-grees', and every day there are few'-er and few'-er of them in the open air; the leaves with'-er and fall off; the days are turn'-ing short; and though the weath'-er is for the most part dry and stead'-y, the air gets chil'-ly at night, and it is neither so safe nor so pleas'-ant as it was in summer, to be walking out at a late hour.

In win-ter the chief com'-forts of life are to be found with-in' doors; there is now in-tense'

cold, hoar frost, ice, snow, and sleet; the days are short, and the nights are not only long, but dark and gloom'-y, ex-cept' when the moon shines. Some'-times there are dread'-ful storms, in which there are many ship'-wrecks at sea, and in which many peo'-ple per'-ish by land.

In all the seasons, we be-hold' a pres'-ent, a per-fect, and an ev'-er-work'-ing God. We be-hold' him in the beau'-ty and de-lights' of the spring time. We be-hold' him in the light and heat, the rich'-ness and the glo'-ry of the sum'-mer months. We behold him in the stores of food which he pro-vides' for us in au'tumn, that we may have e-nough' to sup-port' us in the cold se-vere' weath'-er that suc-ceeds'. And we behold him in the tem'-pests of win'-ter, when he "gives snow like wool, scat'-ters his hoar frost like ash'-es, and casts forth his ice like mor'-sels," and when all na'-ture lies pros'trate be-fore' him. In all these, we behold the most stri'-king proofs of the power, the wis'-dom,

and the good'-ness of him who is the God of

the seasons.

EXCEPTIONS.

Sug-ar cer'-tain is'-lands juice al'-so whol'-ly bul'-locks' blood nour'-ish liq'-uid calf's stom'ach liq'-uor Eng'-land most'-ly moun'-tains o'-cean A'-si-a wor'-thy floods af-fords' guin'-eas half shovel bel'-lows shoes bul'-lets basin.

SUGAR.

Sug'-ar is made from a plant which is called sug-ar-cane. This plant grows in cer'-tain is'-lands called the West In'-dies, where the soil and the cli'-mate are found to fa'-vour its growth. It would not grow well in a cold coun'try. The persons who have e-states' for rais'ing sug-ar-canes, get the name of plant'-ers. Sug'-ar-canes are plant'-ed in rows like beans in a garden.

When ripe for use, the canes are cut off