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New Year's Address.

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another finger-post, another mile-stone on the path of life. Some New Year we shall see the finger-post, the mile-stone for the last time, and leave nothing behind us but our memory. Let it be a holy memory: And Enoch walked with God, and he was not, for God took him.'

Especially would I urge upon you, dear children, to give your youth to God. Under the Jewish economy God always demanded, as indeed He well deserved, 'the first-fruits' and 'the first-born.' He demands, He de

serves the same still; and if Joseph said to his brethren, 'Ye shall not see my face, except you bring your younger brother with you,' say, how will you look upon your Saviour's face in heaven if you feel you devoted to another, or even to yourselves, your 'lovely young years?' Blossoms in spring are fruit in autumn-"The boy is father of the man.'

There is an old story of an abbot who wished to purchase a piece of land. The owner refused, but agreed at length it should be rented for only one crop. The abbot planted acorns, which grow into the oaks that live for hundreds of years.

Be careful, therefore, dear children, of what you sow in youth, lest little errors now may spring up into sturdy sins, and strike their roots so deep that they shall form your perplexity all your life. And specially, begin the New Year well, in God's fear, that at last in God's favour it may be closed-each year seeing you more obedient, more diligent, more Jesus-like, till, the race run and the good fight completed, you pass into the better, blessed land, the everlasting Christmas-tide of glory, where with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years are as one day.'

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The True Memoirs of our Dear Pets.

THE TRUE MEMOIRS OF OUR DEAR PETS.

BY ANNA J. BUCKLAND,

AUTHOR OF 'NOBLE RIVERS AND THEIR STORIES,' ETC.

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F all the pets which we have had, I really do think poor Jack was the favourite. I remember so well the evening when he first Herbert had been wanting so long to get a jackdaw, and at last he heard, one day at school, that a man who lived on the green

came to us.

The True Memoirs of our Dear Pets.

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had some, which he would sell for fourpence a-piece. He had found them in a nest up in the tower of the church. As soon as Herbert came home, he begged mamma to let him go and buy one of these young jackdaws, and she told him that he might go after we had had our tea. So, after tea, Herbert took a basket, and he had not been gone long, before we saw him come running back again, and in the basket he had got the funniest little creature you ever saw. It was covered all over with a sort of slate-coloured fluff, and it had such large feet, and such a great yellow bill!

We were obliged to keep the poor little bird in a hamper for a few days, on some soft hay, for we had not got a cage for it; but in a little while, Herbert had made such a beautiful house for Jack to live in! It was fastened against the wall in the yard, and it had bars in front, and a little door on one side. The roof was slanting, just like a house, with such a dear little gutter round it to catch the rain; and from the gutter there was a pipe which went down into a little bath, so that Jack might always have plenty of water for drinking or bathing! But I think Jack lived quite as much in our house as he did in his own, for he was always coming in to see what was going on. He was such an inquisitive bird; he used to come and watch us when we were at play in the new room, and turn his head first to one side and then to the other, in such a knowing sort of way, as if he wanted to understand what we were about!

In a little while all the dark fluff came off, and then he had such beautiful shining black feathers, and his wings grew so long that we were obliged to cut one of them, for fear of his flying away. But I am sure he would not have liked to leave us, for he grew so tame that he would let us do anything with him. Herbert used very often to take him out sitting on his hand, and sometimes he would button him up inside his coat; but Jack was very mischievous, and yet really, I think, we liked him all the better for that.

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The True Memoirs of our Dear Pets.

Aunt Nan was away from home when we first had Jack; and the day she came back Herbert was in such a hurry to show him to her, that he went down to the house with Jack on his wrist; and the first thing that Aunt Nan saw, when she came to the door, was Jack peeping out of the parlour window.

Presently the omnibus came up with her luggage, and then she took a shilling out of her purse to give it to the man; but, all of a sudden, just as she was holding the shilling out in her hand, it was snatched away. She looked round, and there was Jack with it in his beak, hopping down the passage. Away went Jack with the shilling into the drawing-room, and there he flew upon the table, and then on to the piano, and up to the top of the window curtains, and down again on the mantelshelf, while mamma, and Aunt Nan, and Herbert, and the omnibus man were all trying to catch him. At last he perched himself on the top of the door, and he looked down upon them all so saucily, turning his head from side to side, when he opened his beak and said, 'Caw!' and down dropped the shilling. He seemed so vexed when he found he had let it fall. Jack was very fond of teasing. He used to go up to old Bea, when she was asleep in the sun, and slily pull her whiskers; and once Alfred found a magpie which had hurt its leg, and he bound it up and put it out in the yard, when, soon after, hearing a great noise, he went out, and saw Jack pulling the magpie along, and making the poor thing hop on its one leg round and round the yard.

Jack used often to try to imitate the sounds which he heard, and he used to say 'Mite' very plainly. Mite is what we call Frances, because she used to be so small, and because, when she was a very little girl, she used to repeat a piece of poetry about—

'Every little measure, every little mite.'

She was very fond of Jack, and she used to take him his breakfast every morning; and if he thought she did

not come soon enough, he would go into the kitchen and call out Mite! Mite!' I think it is very likely that Jack would have learned to say a great many more words, if it had not been for the sad event which happened before we had him a year.

At Christmas time we always have a great many plum puddings made-some for ourselves and some to give away, and mamma always remembers our pets also. This year there was a little pudding made for old Bea, and another for Jack. They were given to them on Christmas-day; but, besides his pudding, Jack had been very busy in the kitchen all day, picking up and eating everything he could find. He always used to want to taste everything he saw, and at this time there were more good things than usual about, and he helped himself to all that came in his way. I am very sorry to have to say this about him, because it will make people think he must have been a disagreeable bird; but as these are the true memoirs of our pets, I must not conceal their faults; besides, I could not finish Jack's life without mentioning it.

Jack was in the house with us a great deal on Christmas-day, and he seemed quite to enjoy all our fun; but the next morning, when Herbert went out, he could not find Jack anywhere. He had not been into the kitchen, and he was not in his own little house in the yard. Herbert then went down the garden, and there, lying under a tree, he found poor Jack. He was quite dead. Herbert was in such dreadful trouble when he saw him, that at first we could not think what had happened; but at length, when we all knew that poor Jack was no more, we were all as grieved as he, and a great many tears were shed that morning, over the bread, and butter, and milk at breakfast.

Jack was stuffed, and he looked exactly like himself when it was done, only he had the eyes of an old kingfisher which used to stand on the top of the book-case. No one had ever known or cared for the king-fisher when

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