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THE DEAD RABBIT.

to gratify their

JOUNG PEOPLE have a natural liking for animals. Most boys and girls will, if they can, have one of some kind to make a pet of; and where it is practicable it is wise wish, for to gratify the desires of children in an innocent way is a very desirable thing. It makes them contented, cheerful, happy, and so puts them in a better frame to be teachable and obedient. Enjoyment is not the end of life as a whole, but it is an element which should enter largely into the life of childhood and youth. But enjoyment and indulgence are not the same thing. This is one of the first lessons which an intelligent parent will try to teach his children, and the possession of a pet or favourite animal by them will greatly aid him in his training of them to right habits and dispositions. Though nearly all children like animals, all do not like the same. The dog is a favourite with many, with some pussy has the preference, and with others the canary or poll parrot, and there is the tame rabbit, who does not like that pretty creature? It is a special favourite with most boys and girls. But rabbits are very tender things, and want a deal of attention and care if they are to do well. If their hutches are not kept clean, or if wrong food is given them, or food in improper quantities, they will soon sicken and die. A boy who has the care of rabbits must be very thoughtful and punctual in his habits, and so the keeping of them may teach him, in his early days, lessons which will be of great use to him in after life. It may do also in another way. Life comes to us all with duties, and pleasures, and sorrows. We are constantly telling young people how rightly to perform life's duties, but we greatly overlook doing what is equally important—namely, teaching them how to taste its pleasures and bear its sorrows. The boy and girl in our picture are taking their first lesson, perhaps, in this last particular. They have come to the hutch to find poor bunny dead. And how sad the discovery makes them, and how thoughtful! And there is the dog. He looks up into their faces and sees how sad they are, and he is sad too. But doggy's sadness won't last long, and I don't suppose he will remember anything about the rabbit next day. But these children will-at least, I think so, judging from my recollections of my own childhood's experiences, aye, and for many and many a day beside, and it will give them views and impressions of life which, if rather sober, will be very salutary.

BEN BARLOW'S BUDGET.

By TOM BROWN, Author of " A Year at School," &c., &c.

Letter No. 23.

From CHARLIE THORNTON to BEN BARLOW.

MY DEAR BEN,

High Street, Woodbourne,
May 29th, 187-.

What do you think! The next day after I wrote to you, Old Peter came into the shop while we were at breakfast. I jumped up to serve him, thinking he had been sent by someone for stamps or stationery, but instead of that, he said, "Master Thornton, I've brought my little dog Punch for you, for fighting that butcher fellow."

You recollect Old Peter's dog-a real Skye terrier, as comical a little animal as ever was seen, and as sharp as a needle. He will sit on his hind legs to beg, leap over a stick, and do other tricks. He is the prettiest and cleverest dog in the village, and I jumped for joy at the thought of owning him. But then it occurred to me that Old Peter would miss him very much, so I tried to persuade him to take the dog back. He would not, however, so he gave him a few parting caresses and left him with me. The dog seemed to understand the bargain, for he took to me all at once and seemed quite

contented.

I

When I went back to breakfast and told father, he was sorry had allowed Old Peter to leave him, for he said it was the only living thing he had to love him, and his life would be dull without the dog's companionship. So, in the dinner-time, I went to Old Peter and arranged that Punch should have his meals and sleep at our house, but that whenever his old master had an errand to go he should always call for the dog to accompany him as usual. Old Peter was delighted. I could see he had been a bit moped without Punch. The dog and he are now as happy as the day is long. With kind regards, I remain, yours very truly, CHARLIE THORNTON.

P.S.-How did you spend your Easter holidays?

Letter No. 24.

From MRS. BARLOW to BEN BARLOW.

MY DEAR BEN,

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I am glad you have at last found leisure to write to your mother, and I am very pleased to think that the cakes I send you are so much

appreciated by yourself and your joking friend Master Instone. You may assure him that in future I will recollect his preference for two kinds of fruit in his cake, though I am sure he will not feel hurt if I remind him of an old proverb, which says, " Never look a gift horse in the mouth," and which may perhaps apply equally well to a gift

cake.

I should think your friend must be quite a musical enthusiast, judging from his interest and delight in the cathedral service on Easter Sunday. If his industry in its study are equal to his love for music, I should think it probable he may become a skilful musician.

Like you, I prefer a plain service to one so florid and elaborate as to be beyond the intelligence of the congregation. I fear that in most cathedral services the minds of the choir are too much occupied with the music to leave room for that devotion of which their music should be the utterance; though I do not say but there are some whose hearts would be lifted up in praise and prayer by the loud swelling jubilate and the pathetic miserere of a full orchestral service.

I am glad you are getting on with your lessons, though you appear to have thought of them only in time to mention them in a postscript.

You ask how the hawthorn bushes look. The first bloom we saw was quite a fortnight ago. Bob brought it from Upleigh with him. You may be sure we have had some in the house ever since. You know Bob loves flowers himself, and as he knows the sweet-scented May is a special favourite of mine, he has fetched a fresh bough of it directly the previous one has got withered.

You may be quite easy about your fowls and rabbits being well attended to. If Bob had never seen you, he would take care of them for their own sake, and if his dislike to such things were as great as his fondness is, he would attend to them out of love for you. He is looking forward with great pleasure to your holidays, and only yesterday was asking how long it would be till you came home.

Clare and Helen, too, are getting anxious to see you. They join your father and myself in best love to you. Your affectionate MOTHER

Letter No. 25.

From BEN BARLOW to CHARLIE THORNTON.

MY DEAR CHARLIE,

Waterside House, Worcester,
June 5th, 187—.

We are busy getting ready for the break-up examination, or else I should have answered your first letter before. Now that I have got another, I must find time somehow.

I did envy you fellows your week's holiday at Easter. We only had half a day on Good Friday and a whole day on Easter Monday.

We had the football out on the Friday afternoon, but didn't play a regular game-merely knocked it about for exercise.

On Sunday a few of us went to morning service in the Cathedral. It was grand-full choral service, you know-solos and choruses, like they have in the Hammerthorpe Town Hall at Christmas.

On Monday we spent nearly all the morning on the Severn. There were a lot of excursionists there about noon, but we were on the ground first and had our choice of the boats. It is a nice river to row on. You can go for a long distance without any sharp turns, and it is wide enough for a lot of boats to pass each other with safety. We are going to form a boating club, with Mr. Macpherson for captain. He has won several prizes for rowing on the Severn.

Talking about rowing reminds me of another thing. Father tells me Dr. Tasker lamed his leg by jumping into the water to rescue a little girl who fell off the bridge during a boat-race. And, what do you think, that little girl became his son's wife! I was introduced to her a few days ago.

I say, Charlie, you are in luck to get Old Peter's Punch given you. I would have given half-a-dozen of my grey rabbits for him. He's a perfect beauty! I think I know why father didn't blame you for fighting the young butcher. It was because you were defending somebody else, and not doing it on your own account. He would not so much mind me doing that, only he seems to think I should jump at the chance just for the sake of fighting.

Remember me kindly to your father and mother, and believe me, yours affectionately, BEN BARLOW.

Letter No. 26.

From BEN BARLOW to DR. BARLOW.

MY DEAR FATHER,

Waterside House, Worcester,
June 12th, 187—.

It seems my friend Ted Instone has been writing to his father and mother about me, and they have told him to give me a pressing invitation to spend a part of my holidays with him. Can I go? I should like it so much. You know I have never been to London, and Ted says his elder brother, who is in one of the Government offices, will have a holiday at the same time, and he can take us about and show me all the grand places in London.

If you and mother consent, I think it would be better for me to go home with him and spend there the first week of my holidays; because Mr. Jones' school won't break up till a fortnight after us, and so, if I came home, I could not have much of my old schoolfellows' company for the first ten days.

Please let me know by next post if I can go? Do, please, let me? Ted will be quite disappointed if I do not, and so shall I.—I remain, dear father, your affectionate son,

BEN.

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