WILLIAM HENRY'S LETTERS TO HIS GRANDMOTHER.

FOURTH PACKET.

MY

Y DEAR GRANDMOTHER,

-

Now I will tell you what happened that afternoon.

The school was about half done.

The master gave three loud raps with his ruler.

This made the room very still.

He asked the other teachers to come up to the platform. And they did. Next, he waved his ruler, and said, “ Fold.”

And we all folded our arms.

It was so still that we could hear the clock tick.

He told Tom Cush to close the windows and shut the blinds.

Then he talked to us about stealing and telling lies. Said he did n't like to punish, but it must be done. He said he had reason to believe that the boy whose name he should call out was not honest, that he took other people's things and told lies.

Then he told the story, all that he knew about it, and said he hoped that all concerned in it would have honor enough to speak out and own it. Nobody said anything.

Then the master said, "William Henry, you may come to the platform.” I went up.

Somebody way in the back part shouted out, “Don't believe it!"

"Silence!" said the master. And he thumped his ruler on the desk. Then he told me to take off my jacket, and fold it up.

And I did.

He told me to hand my collar and ribbon to a teacher. And I did.

Then he laid down his ruler, and took his rod and bent it to see if it was limber. It was n't exactly a rod. It was the thing I told you about when I first came to this school.

He tried it twice on the desk first.

Then he took hold of my shoulder and turned my back round towards him. He said I had better bend down my head a little, and took hold of the neck of my shirt to keep me steady. I shut my teeth together tight.

At that very minute Bubby Short cried out, "Master! Master! Stop! Don't! He did n't do it! He did n't kill it! I know who! I'll

tell! I will! I will! I don't care what Tom Cush does! 'T was Tom Cush killed it!"

The master did n't say one word. But he handed me my jacket.
The boys all clapped and gave three cheers, and he let them.

Then he said to me, whispering, "Is this so, William?" And I said, low, "Yes, sir."

Then he took hold of my hand and led me to my seat. And when I sat down he put his hand on my shoulder just as softly, it made me remember the way my mother used to before she died, and, says he, "My dear boy," then stopped and began again, "My dear boy," and stopped again. If he'd been a boy I should have thought he was going to cry himself. But of course a man would n't. And what should he cry for? It was n't he that almost had a whipping. At last he told me to come to his room after supper. Then Bubby Short was called up to the platform.

Now I will tell you how Bubby Short found out about it.

He sleeps in a little bed in a little bit of a room that lets out of Tom's. "T is n't much bigger than a closet. But it is just right for him. That morning when Tom got up so early and threw pebbles at me, Bubby Short had been keeping awake with the toothache. And he heard Tom telling another boy about the rabbit.

He made believe sleep. But once, while Tom was dressing himself, he peeped out from under the bedquilt, with one eye, to see a black-and-blue spot, that Tom said he hit his head against a post and made, when he was running.

But they caught him peeping out, and were dreadful mad because he heard, and said if he told one single word they would flog him. But he says he would have told before, if he had known it had been laid to me. Was n't he a nice little fellow to tell?

O, I was so glad when the boys all clapped! And when we were let out, they came and shook hands with Bubby Short and me. Great boys and all. Mr. Augustus, and Dorry, and all. And the master told me how glad he was that he could keep on thinking me to be an honest boy.

Now are n't you glad you did n't feel sorry?

Your affectionate grandchild,

WILLIAM HENRY.

Dorry's Letter to his Sister.

DEAR SIS,

-

If mother's real clever, I want you to ask her something right away. But if it's baking-day, or washing-day, or company's coming off, or preserves going on, or anything 's upset down below; or if she's got a headache or a dress-maker, or anything else that 's bad, then wait.

I want you to ask her if I may bring home a boy to spend Saturday. Not a very big boy, - do very well to " Philopene " with you; won't put her out a bit.

If you don't like him at first, you will afterwards. When he first came we

If any

used to plague him on account of his looks. He's got a furious head of hair, and freckles. But we don't think at all about his looks now. thing, we like his looks.

He's just as pleasant and gen'rous, and not a mean thing about him. I don't believe he would tell a lie to save his life. I know he would n't. He's always willing to help everybody. And had just as lief give anything away as not. And when he plays, he plays fair. Some boys cheat to make their side beat. You don't catch William Henry at any such mean business. All the boys believe every word he says. Teachers too.

I will tell you how he made me ashamed of myself. Me and some other boys.

One day he had a box come from home. 'T was his birthday. It was full of good things. Says I to the boys, "Now, maybe, if we had n't plagued him so, he would give us some of his goodies."

That very afternoon, when we had done playing, and ran up to brush the mud off our trousers, we found a table all spread out with a table-cloth that he had borrowed, and in the middle was a frosted cake with "W. H." on top done in red sugar. And close to that were some oranges, and a dish full of nuts, and as much as a pound of candy, and more figs than that, and four great cakes of maple sugar, made on his father's land, as big as small johnny-cakes, and another kind of cake. And doughnuts.

"Come, boys," says he, "help yourselves."

But not a boy stirred.

I felt my face a-blushing like everything. O, we were all of us just as ashamed as we could be! We did n't dare go near the table. But he kept inviting us, and at last began to pass them round.

And I tell you the things were tip-top, and more too. Such cake! And doughnuts, that his cousins made! And tarts! You must learn how. But I don't believe you ever could. Of course we had manners enough not to take as much as we wanted. I want to tell you some more things about him. But wait till I come. He's most as old as you are, and is always a

laughing, the same as you are.

Ask mother what I told you. Take her at her cleverest, and don't eat up all the sweet apples.

From your brother,

DORRY.

P. S. Put some away in meal to mellow. Don't mellow 'em with your knuckles.

Mrs. A. M. Diaz.

ONE

MISCHIEF.

NE bright day last summer, little Willie went with Judy, his nurse, to take a walk in the beautiful Central Park, in the city of New York. He was so full of fun and mischief that he wished he could fly up into the windows of the houses, and cry Boo! at the people sitting inside, and make them jump and squeal with fright; and he was perfectly crazy to jump over the moon as the cow did, only there was no moon in the daytime to jump over, which was a pity.

So, instead of this, when he got in the park, he cried Hullo! at every boy he met, and tried to knock his hat over his eyes. He twitched the little girls' curls; and once, when two dear little things were standing close together, telling secrets, he tied the long streamers of their hats together, so that, when they parted, off flew both hats, to their owners' great astonishment.

He snapped at all the dogs with the end of his pocket-handkerchief tied into a hard knot; and poked, and pricked, and scratched poor Judy between whiles. He even picked up a dead tumble-bug, and, pretending to be very loving and kind, said to his nurse,

"Open your mouth and shut your eyes,

And I'll give you something to make you wise."

Judy, thinking it was liquorice, shut her eyes and opened her great honest mouth, and Willie popped in the tumble-bug, screaming with laughter, while Judy, howling and blind with fright, fell over on her nose, and upset a little carriage, in which were two nice pretty babies, sucking their thumbs and staring at each other, perfectly happy. They were picked up all in a bunch, with bumped heads, and crying bitterly, and it was a long time before the pain would let them suck their thumbs again in any comfort.

But Willie walked off with his hands in his pockets, a little ashamed, it is true, but not enough ashamed to be sorry.

Presently a young lady and gentleman came slowly along. They were gazing into each other's eyes with all their might and main, and each was thinking the other the very pink of perfection, whatever that may be.

"Hullo!" said Willie, "here is a lover and loveress"; and the moment they passed, he caught up a long dry branch, which had a sharp thorny end, and softly and slyly fastened it to the back of the lady's dress. He might have fastened a whole tree to her skirt, and she would never have been the wiser; for she sailed off with the dry branch rattling behind her, while Willie slapped his sides, and jumped up and down with delight.

Just please let me tell you something. There are two kinds of mischief; good, nice, funny mischief, and mean, bad, unkind mischief. I am afraid this was the bad sort, a kind of topsy-turvy, behind-before, inside-out mischief. All wrong, I think. What do you think?

But worse is coming; so don't think at all, until you read to the end of this tale. I wish I were near enough to you to get a sweet little kitteny kiss; then I could tell my story forty times better.

By and by Willie came to one of the lovely lakes. Five snow-white One of them was eating cakes, which a little boy

swans were sailing in it. and girl were giving him.

"Hullo!" said Willie, pulling his nurse's gown. "Here, Judy, give me some cakes, quick, quick! I want to feed the swans too."

"I hain't got no cakes," said Judy. (I hope you perceive that she talked very bad grammar.)

"Well, buy some; buy some, I tell you, quick!" cried Willie.

"I never seed sich a bother," grumbled Judy; but she walked off to where an old bundle of a woman sat, with a basket of fly-specked cakes, and some dirty little brown squares, which she called "taffee." Willie followed close at his nurse's heels, and the next moment he had two stale old round hearts, for which a penny was paid, and went running quickly back to the lake.

A great beautiful swan was just sailing away from the edge, but I really think she must have had eyes in her tail, and kept a sharp lookout backwards as well as forwards; for the moment Willie held out his hand with a cake in it, the snow-white bird floated softly round to him.

Willie held the cake out until the bird with her bill wide open almost touched it; then the naughty boy suddenly snatched it away, making faces at the swan, and laughing with all his might. "Ba-a! Ah-a! No, you don't!" he cried, swinging his arm round high above his head. "Ki! what fun! never had such fun before!"

"Fun to you," thought the beautiful swan; "but mean as dry chips to me." O, how he did torment that poor creature! His nurse never minded his