"Mother, I am sorry I upset your basket | kept him employed till about half-an-hour before school, then he said it was too late to get his books about, and he must rest: he would go and spin his new top. Quarter to nine the academy bell rung, warning the scolars it was time to be on the move if they intended to be in good time.

if you will let the things be till noon I will pick them up, but now I must find that book. Oh dear, where can it be? I shall be tardy! I do wish folks would let my things alone. I believe some one has hid it, just to plague me.'

"At this moment his mother remembered where she had seen him put it the night before, and inquired, "Did you take it out of the tree' when you came into the house last night?'

"Oh no, I remember now;' and away went Charlie. The book was not in the tree, but he fouud it in the grass under it, its appearance not the least improved by its dew bath. Washing the cheeks in dew may improve their colour, but Charlie did not like to have the French receipt applied to his book again.

"At that moment the academy bell rang for school, and though Charlie made all possible haste, the door was closed before he got there, and he was obliged to wait outside till the school was open, and tardy was written against his name. He sat down on the door-step in no very enviable mood, and, like many another, sought to put the blame upon other shoulders, and at last laid it upon the teacher."

"Why, mother," said Eddie, "how could he?"

"He saw the teacher close the door just as he entered the yard, and thought he might have waited for him-forgetting that he never waited for any one that was late.

"Charlie began scolding to himself. "This is a pretty way to use a fellow; almost shut the door in his face. I think he might have waited a minute or two, he must have seen me. My way of thinking, it was rather mean in him. To think I have been so near through the term, without a tardy mark, and here in the last week to get one. Now I shall lose the book promised me if I would not be tardy this term. Oh dear, it is too bad!' and the tears came thick and fast, and with them came a better state of feeling; for almost instantly he was ready to acknowledge that he alone was to blame, and that he had brought it all upon himself by not putting his book where it belonged. Throwing things down just where it happened was Charlie's great fault, and it often caused serious trouble.

"When he reached home the night before, he found two cousins in the garden waiting for him. He was in such haste to play that he could not spare time to take his book into the house, and put it where it belonged, but put it in a tree, which really took him longer; for the tree was small, and the book required considerable 'fixing' before it wonld stay where he put it. His mother saw him at work, and kindly said, 'Charlie, had you not better bring your book into the house, and put it where it belongs? you may forget it.'

"Oh no, no danger. I have to study byand-by. I am sure I can't forget it.'

"But you see he did. His cousins spent the evening, and when they left it was too late, and Charlie too tired to study; and in the morning his mother had an errand for him to do, that

Soon after this Mrs. Stanton called: Charlie, did you know the first bell bad rung? "Yes, mother, I am all ready, and I can go in five minutes. I am watching the clock.'

"Five minutes before nine he went for his arithmetic, and you know the rest. When he came home at noon, his mother inquired if he was not tardy. He told her all about it, how angry he was, and just how unkindly he felt towards his teacher; and said he, 'I was so ashamed of it, that I almost wanted to ask him to forgive me for feeling so, though he knew nothing of it; and then to think I have lost "Robinson Crusoe," that father promised me as a reward for punctuality, only four days more of school. It is too bad! and his black eyes were full of tears, and he felt very sad.

"I am sorry for you, my son,' said his mother, and I hope you will learn a lesson from this, and put things in their places. Also, that it is not safe to play till the last minute, leaving only time to perform some duty in; something may occur to hinder you, as there did this morning, and cause trouble.'

"This affair did teach Charlie a lesson, for though sometimes tempted to do differently, he always after that put his books where they belonged, when he came in from school; and he went through the next term without a tardy mark, and received the promised Robinson Crusoe.' But Charlie had many lessons to learn from that stern teacher, Experience. Only a few days after this affair, he came into the house one warm afternoon, tired and heated with playing. Taking off his shoes he left them in the corner of the front hall, and threw his hat over them, and laid himself on the sittingroom lounge. His mother, passing through the hall soon after, said, Charlie, you had better put your shoes where they belong, and hang your hat up; there's no knowing what may happen to them.'

"Oh, I guess nothing will happen to them; I am so tired I can't get up.'

"So the hat and shoes laid in the corner, and Charlie on the lounge, where he was soon sleeping soundly, and did not wake till called to tea. After tea his father went to the liverystable, and returned with a nice horse and carriage to take Charlie and his mother to ride. Delighted, Charley run for his hat and shoes, but they were nowhere to be found, though mother and all the family joined in the search, looking into every possible and impossible place for them (Kate even looking into the jar of quince preserve), and he came to the conclusion that they had been stolen; for the outside door had been open during the afternoon. Yet he could not but wonder that coats and shawls were not taken too. Though Charlie could ride in

OUR LIBRARY TABLE.

THE NAVAL LIEUTENANT: A Nautical Ro- | stirring story of the sea be not a genuine son of mance, in 3 vols. By T. C. Armstrong.-(T. it himself, he has at least been at the pains of Cautley Newby, Welbeck'street, Cavendish- making himself thoroughly master of his subject, square.) If the author of this interesting and and handles it in (so to speak) a ship-shape

manner. He knows the proper meaning of sea all the cash he had in his pocket, he goes on phrases, and uses them not like an amateur, shore and takes up his abode till he can secure but as an old salt would do, in their right places, a passage in the first ship that calls at the and, except that he overcrowds his chapters island bound for Great Britain. But fate with incidents closely similar in character is busy with the future of the young sailor, and results, we have no fault to find with his and one day, in rambling along the seaproduction. The story opens with the disas-coast, he is stopped by an abrupt point, which trous storming of Santa Cruz, by the British fleet, and the defeat of the storming party, amongst whom is the hero, Augustus Chamberlain, a midshipman, waiting to have the rank of lieutenant (conferred on him by his captain) confirmed by the admiralty. He is shot down near the edge of the Mole, and rolls over, pitch-eighty or ninety feet high and rather precipitous. ing upon a heap of slain, an incident that saves his life. He is wounded in the shoulder, and a second shot has struck him obliquely on the head; and the author's description of his condition is so good that we shall let him tell it for himself:

How long Augustus Chamberlain lay there insensible he knew not; but it was dark when he raised his head, which had been pillowed on the cold breast of a dead comrade. The night wind was sweeping over the blood-stained Mole, and the wash of the seabreaking in a sullen murmur as the tide rolled close to the ill-fated dead-roused him from his stupor, recollection gradually returned; and with a shudder, with difficulty he attained an upright posture. He felt dizzy and sick as wiping the blood from his face and eyes he staggered on in the dark, till suddenly coming with considerable force against a black object, he fell over it and pitched into the bottom of a large boat, and, striking his head violently against an iron bolt, again relapsed into insensibility.

The boat floats with the rising tide and drifts with our hero rapidly out to sea, and in an opposite direction from where the British ships are anchored. When he recovers his senses a second time the summer night had passed away and a dazzling sun threw its scorching rays over the white-topped seas, the clouds that had obscured the past night had vanished, and a clear, deep-blue sky had succeeded. With animation appetite returns, and the appetite of a midshipman of nineteen, even with a wounded shoulder, is no slight thing. But, happily, the previous crew of the boat have left some biscuits and a jar of water in the locker, sufficient to keep life in him for some three or four days. With a single oar which he finds in the boat heimprovises a rudder, and so contrives to steer her before the breeze, and after drifting in this way for some time, till, in fact, the last biscuit is consumed, he is fortunately fallen in with by a merchantship, bound from Liverpool to Bridgetown, Barbadoes, and is well-attended and taken care of by her captain. Some planters, passengers on board, take great interest in the young lieutenant, and one of them invites him to make his house on the island his home, and places money at his disposal-a trait of West Indian gentlemen of the olden time which is perfectly true to nature. With one of them, after thanking Capt. Henderson, and distributing amongst the crew

bars his urther progress. Rather than turn back and, by the way, this little incident gives us an instant clue to the character of the lieutenant" rather than turn back he commenced climbing the height, and after a sharp struggle gained the summit." We should think so, for the cliff was

Looking round he finds he has trespassed into a plantation: a handsome mansion, with its lawn in front, a wide avenue bordered with plants and shrubs, a young lady on horseback curbing the impatience of her steed, while waiting for her companion, who is conversing with a lady on the doorsteps, while two negroes hold a couple of saddle-horses. This is the scene that meets our hero; and at this moment the young lady, tired of waiting, waves her hand to the gentleman, gives her impatient horse the reins, and he gallops down the avenue. Instead of turning away, struck with the grace and skill of this Barbadian Camilla, the lieutenant remained a moment watching her, when, just then, the animal treads on a sharp stone and stumbles: the sharp jerk, which nearly unhorsed her, caused the rider to lose her hold of the reins, and her horse, frightened and feeling himself free, plunged off at a mad gallop, cleared the ornamental fence, and the next moment would have plunged with his fair burden over the cliff, "had not our hero seized the bridle, and by a powerful jerk forced the animal back upon his haunches, on the very edge of the precipice. Catching the falling girl in his arms, but staggering with the impetus and the great exertion he had used, he lost his balance, and over the precipice he went, just having time and strength to push the girl back before he fell." Our readers comprehend the situation. Of course the sailor, who, like all of his profession, has proverbially as many lives as a cat, is not killed, though sufficiently hurt to necessitate his being taken to Mr. Mortimer the planter's house, where he is nursed and tended through a very interesting convalescence by Mrs. Mortimer and the fair and grateful Annie. The usual consequence ensues to the young people thus thrown together; though, in their case, it only simplifies the pre-arrangement of their parents; for it turns out that Mr. Mortimer was the dear and intimate friend of the lieutenant's father, and that they had agreed on the future union of their children, should they, upon acquaintance, desire it. The planter is about returning to England, with his family, and it is agreed that the lieutenant shall return in the same ship. It is as our readers are aware, from the first chapter, war time, and the ship is chased and taken by a French man-of-war, who makes sail for Brest. In the meanwhile, thick, blowing

A SMILE.-Who can tell the value of a smile? It ODD-FELLOWS' MAGAZINE. (Manchester.)— costs the giver nothing, but is beyond price to the We cannot help thinking that the utility and disarms malice, turns hatred to love, revenge to kinderring and relenting, the lost and forsaken. It value of this Quarterly would be greatly in-ness, and paves the darkest paths with gems of suncreased by a less exclusive mode of publication. light. A smile on the brow betrays a kind heart, a We inquire for it in vain at our London pub- pleasant friend, an affectionate brother, a dutiful son, lisher's; "The Row" knows it not; but, though a happy husband. It adds a charm to beauty, it especially established for, and supported by, the decorates the face of the deformed, and makes a woman large public body whose name it bears, its con- resemble an angel.

THE LADIES' PAGE.

CROCHET COUVRETTE, OR ANTIMACASSAR.

MATERIALS.-Boar's Head crochet cotton of Messrs. Evans and Co., Derby, No. 13.

WINTER SHAWL.

MATERIALS. Six ounces of white, six ounces of cerise single Berlin wool; two netting-needles and meshes, one-third and three-fourths of an inch wide.