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left that one crosswise, and in every particular did as my oracle commanded. Then I took another book and sat down to enjoy a good fire, on scientific, economic principles, that would keep me warm, and not keep John's purse empty.

11. I was interested in my book, and I forgot the fire. After awhile I began to be conscious of a slow baking, and I felt a growing desire to throw open a window. I thought of my stove, and turned that way. Horrors! it was red-hot in three places, one of my parlor chairs was burned to a blister, and I was sure every picture in the room would crack. I threw open a door, and frantically seized my stove-book. Carefully I compared every damper with the printed directions-all was right. But, distrusting my senses, I took the picture labeled "Stove closed up," and compared every damper -all right again.

12. There must be a mistake. I tried experiments. I changed some of the dampers. I opened some doors, and closed others. And, in various ways, I worked over that perverse piece of iron all the afternoon. All of no avail. It got hotter and hotter, and I was just on the point of pouring water in to put out the fire (at least, I wanted to), when John came in.

13. "Hold!" he said, "something's wrong!"

"Is there?" I said, sarcastically; "tell me something I don't know."

"Give me the book," said he.

I gave it, and he seated himself with masculine certainty that he could regulate it in a minute. But the longer he studied, the more foggy he got.

14. "I wish they'd use a little common-sense in giving directions! It would puzzle a Philadelphia lawyer to make this out."

15. "I've studied it nearly all day, and I know the stove is shut up according to the rules," I said, positively.

16. "Where's Charley?" was the next remark.

"In the dining-room," said Jane.

"Send him down to the store for the man who put

up this stove."

17. The man came. He looked it over.

He could n't understand it. He looked at it inside and out, above, below, and, at last, he burst out:

"Blest if I did n't put that damper in wrong. When you turned it open, you shut it up. I can't fix it now, while the stove's hot, but turn it so, and it's all right. I'll come up in the morning, ma'am, if you'll let your fire go out to-night, and fix it.”

18. "I shall be extremely glad to let the fire go out," said I. "I don't think we will need any more heat this winter."

He smiled a grimy smile - he was the blackest man, for a white one, that I ever saw and I suppose he was used to seeing people out of temper about that stove. He went out.

19. Well, the stove cooled off. Before long we shut the doors; then we drew our chairs nearer; then we fell to consulting that book again, and making rash experiments on dampers. All to no purpose; that fire would n't come up, and the most provoking thing about it was that we couldn't see the coal, and could only guess how it was doing.

Steadily it grew cooler and cooler, and at last was black and dead, and we sat wrapped in shawl and overcoat till bed-time.

20. The trials we had with that miserable combination of iron and dampers are too harrowing to repeat. It would get too hot; the grate would turn most unexpectedly, and let the fire half-down, and stay there and melt, while I burned my fingers, scorched the carpet, and destroyed things generally, trying to get it out in a hurry. The clinkers. would choke it up, so that I

shook all the legs loose, in trying to shake it down, and I had to hold the stove up with a plank while Jane pounded the legs in. But John put a screw at the toe (so to speak) of each iron foot, and said I could shake till the windows rattled, if I wanted to.

21. Then on all occasions, on the slightest provocation, especially when I had company, that evil-disposed stove would develop some new crank, and the fire would go

out.

22. It did save coal. It saves a great deal of coal I'll give it that credit. But it kept me in a most unchristian frame of mind, besides keeping my hands in an everlasting state of blackness and roughness, and spoiling my carpet where the ashes fell out.

23. It cultivated profanity to a shocking extent in John, and it caused three girls to leave without giving warning.

24. That was last year. But I've grown wiser. This fall the mass of modern improvement took its ignominious way to an auction-store. The despised, old-fashioned, unaspiring stove was rescued from oblivion in the cellar.

25. We are comfortable once more, our fire has n't been out this winter, and John pays the coal-bills without a grumble.— Olive Thorne.

A

LESSON 39.

THE SMACK IN SCHOOL.

DISTRICT school, not far away,
'Mid Berkshire hills, one winter's day
Was humming with its wonted noise
Of threescore mingled girls and boys;
Some few upon their tasks intent,
But more on furtive mischief bent.

2. The while the master's downward look Was fastened on a copy-book,

When suddenly, behind his back,

Rose sharp and clear a rousing smack!
As 't were a battery of bliss

Let off in one tremendous kiss!

3. "What's that?" the startled master cries;

That, thir," a little imp replies,

"Wath William Willeith, if you pleathe

I thaw him kith Thuthanna Peathe!"

With frown to make a statue thrill,
The master thundered, "Hither, Will!"

4. Like wretch o'ertaken in his track,
With stolen chattels on his back,
Will hung his head in fear and shame,
And to the awful presence came —
A great, green, bashful simpleton,
The butt of all good-natured fun.

5. With smile suppressed, and birch upraised, The threatener faltered, "I'm amazed That you, my biggest pupil, should

Be guilty of an act so rude!

Before the whole set school to boot-
What evil genius put you to 't?"

6. ""T was she, herself, sir," sobbed the lad, "I did not mean to be so bad;

But when Susannah shook her curls,
And whispered I was 'fraid of girls,
And durs n't kiss a baby's doll,
I couldn't stand it, sir, at all,

But up and kissed her on the spot!
I know - boo-hoo-I ought to not,
But, somehow, from her looks-boo-hoo-
I thought she kind o' wished me to!"

LESSON 40.

FOUND DEAD IN THE STREET.

THE labor is over and done;

The sun has gone down in the west;
The birds are asleep every one;
And the world has gone to its rest.

2. Sleepers on beds of down,

'Neath covers of silk and gold;
Soft, as on roses new blown,
Slept the great monarch of old!

3. Sleepers on mother's breast, Sleepers happy and warm, Cosy as birds in their nest,

With never a thought of harm.

4. Sleepers in garrets high,

'Neath coverlet ragged and old; And one little sleeper all under the sky, Out in the night and the cold!

5. Alone in the wide, wide world,
Christless, motherless he;

Begging or stealing to live, and whirled
Like waif on an angry sea.

6. The daisy looks up from the grass,
Fresh from the fingers of Night,

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