He was born in the village of Wylam, eight miles from Newcastle, on the 9th of June, 1781. His father and mother were a respectable couple, careful, and hard working, "of the honourable family of workers." The father, though much respected by the neighbours, got to be called" Old Bob," and his wife was spoken of as a rale canny body. We therefore see that the celebrated George Stephenson had that best fortune, to begin life with, good and respected parents. His father was a great favourite with all the boys of the village as he used to tell them stories of Sinbad the Sailor and Robinson Crusoe, and others of his own invention. He had also a strong affection for birds, and animals of all sorts. In the winter-time he had usually a number of tame robins about him, and they would come hopping familiarly round the engine-fire, to pick up the crumbs which he had saved for them out of his slender dinner. His son inherited these tastes of his father, which must have tended to soften his character. George Stephenson when a boy, led the usual life of working-people's children. He played about the doors, went bird-nesting when he could, and ran errands to the village. In course of time he was promoted to the office of carrying his father's dinner to him while at work, and he helped to nurse his younger brother and sisters at home; for in the poor man's dwelling every hand must early be turned to useful account. None of the children then went to school, the family was too poor and food too dear to admit of that. The family removed to Dewley Barn where George Stephenson was employed in herding cows, and keeping them out of the way of the coal waggons for this George only had two-pence a day. It was light employment, and he had plenty of spare time on his hands, which he spent in bird-nesting, or making whistles out of reeds and scrannel-straws; but his favorite amusement was making little clay engines with a playmate. He was next employed in hoeing turnips, for which he was paid fourpence a day. He was then full of fun, and fond of sports, but always steady at his work; even then he saw nothing clever in the way of tools, that he did not try to imitate. "We have said before, that he had his father's fondness At for birds and animals, and blackbirds were his especial favorites. There was not a nest near Dewley Barn that he did not know of. When the young birds were old enough, he would bring them home and feed them, and teach them to fly about the cottage, unconfined by cages, he had to feed them, let us remember, from his own portion of food. One of his blackbirds became so tame, that after flying about the doors all day, and in and out of the cottage, it would roost upon George's bed-head at night. Ever since he had made his clay-engines in the bog, his great ambition was to be an engine-man, and to his delight, at the age of fourteen he was made a fireman, which was the first step towards the fulfilment of his wishes, and for this he obtained a shilling a day. He tried to learn everything about a steam-engine and its ways, and as soon as he was raised to twelve shillings a-week he said, "he was a made man for life." this period he was a steady, sober, hard-working fellow. As he began to work at eight years old, he had little time for learning to read, but in a few years he gained instruction at evening schools, and obtained a knowledge of arithmetic, reading, and writing; and George seized every opportunity of improving his own mind by the wisdom of others. He tried many experiments with steam as a moving power whilst working at the collieries, and he examined into the machinery of different engines. He became, by practice, very skilful in the delicate mechanism of clocks and watches, and by this means he gained a considerable sum by mending his neighbours' watches at 2s. 6d. each; and he once owned that he had gained and saved £100. by the work. Thus working and saving, George Stephenson was enabled prudently to marry. But before we continue our account of George's progress as an engineer, we must give an instance of his bravery good and great men are always brave. One day a workman hurried into Mr. Stephenson's cottage with the fearful news that the deepest main of the colliery was on fire. He immediately hastened to the pit's mouth, about a hundred yards off, where the women and children of the colliery were fast running, In a commanding voice, with distress in every face. Stephenson ordered the engineer to lower him down the shaft in the corve. There was danger—it might be death-before him; but he must go. As those about the pit's mouth saw him descend rapidly out of sight, and heard from the gloomy depths of the shaft the cries of despair rising from the work-people below, they gazed on the heroic man with amazement. He was soon at the bottom and in the midst of the workmen, who seemed struck helpless at the danger threatened to all in the pit. Leaping from the corve on its touching the ground, the brave man called out, "Stand back! Are there six men among you who have courage enough to follow me? If so, come, and we will put the fire out!" There were bricks and mortar at hand, they built up a wall to keep out the air, the fire was put out, the people saved from death, and the mine preserved. This account was related by a man who helped George Stephenson in this noble act. Seeing the evil attending the lights in the pit, he set about making a lamp that would prevent the danger. safety-lamp was called a "Geordy," and many people think it was that which lead to the invention of Sir Humphrey Davy for the same purpose. To be continued. His OLD NURSE'S STORY. So YOU want me to describe this Christmas tree to you, do you? I am afraid that's beyond my powers, wait until you have seen the tree Miss Catherine is going by and bye to show you, and then you will be able to picture it to yourselves. The tree of which I speak looked very pretty, however, for the flags, sugar plum boxes, apples, oranges, ornamental baskets. and glittering pewter, had altogether a remarkably gay effect, as they hung among the dark fir branches, to which were fastened many lighted tapers of different colours. It did my heart good to see the girls' delight, though some of them, to be sure, expressed it in a very odd way; and one little merry thing, whose name was Sarah, amused us in particular, by saying, that to look at a tree like that, was nicer even than eating plum-pudding on Christmas-day. "Well, but plum pudding is very nice, isn't it ma'am?" said Sarah, appealing to me, when her companions laughed at her; "I'm always so glad when Christmas comes, ain't you ?" "Yes, my dear," said I, "but not on account of the pudding, though that's very well in its way." "Oh, I do think it's the nicest thing in the world, and I suppose as you live alone, you had your pudding all to yourself: what a great quantity you must have been able to eat then." “I didn't have any pudding at all last Christmasday," ," said I; "I couldn't afford it." Oh, dear, I shouldn't have liked that at all; mother says it ain't lucky not to eat plum pudding on Christmas-day." "I don't believe there is such a thing as luck,” I replied, "and I hope, dears, you think of something besides feasting on Christmas-day." "Yes," said Jane, pressing forward, "my brother didn't eat a bit of pudding on Christmas-day, because he was ill; he is always ill, you know, but he was very bad that day-still he says he likes Christmas, 'cause it makes him think of the angels singing in the sky. He knows such a pretty hymn about it, too— about the shepherds keeping watch by night, I mean." "Your brother, always ill," said Miss Kate, thoughtfully; "how sad that must be ! And is he fond of hymns, then?" "Yes, hymns aud Bible stories both, and so am I." Miss Kate left the room, and presently returned with a hymn-book in her hand. "It is for you, Jane," said she, "I know I may give it to you; it's got a great many pretty hymns, and look at its frontispiece-a picture of a little boy saying his prayers. Do you see? He's a nice little boy, is he not ?" The delighted Jane scarcely stopped to express her thanks, before she ran off to show her treasure to her companions, and she almost seemed at a loss for words to express sufficient admiration of its gilt leaves, its em bossed binding, and above all, of "its dear, sweet little picture of a boy." "Joe," she declared, "would be pleased with that; he did so like a picture to look at." Most of her schoolfellows sympathised with her, but Esther said, in quite a scornful way, she didn't care to look at the book, she was sure she knew all the poetry that was in it by heart, and she'd got a much finer book than that at home, given her as a prize at midsummer." 66 "It's just like you, Esther," said Jane, pettishly; "you always pretend to be so wise, but you know you nearly didn't get the prize after all.” Well, but I did get it though," said Esther. "Do you know, ma'am,” she added, turning to me," she thought she should have it, but I knew she wouldn't; she's not so clever as I, and she was so vexed the other day, 'cause teacher thought I was a good bit the oldest, for I'm such a great deal taller than she is, you know." "And you expect to get a prize for being tall, I suppose," said I. 66 No," said Esther, rather confused, don't give prizes for that of course, but—” our teachers "Then why did you boast of it, my dear? Your height is no merit of your own, aye, nor your cleverness either; you did'nt give yourself understanding, you know, though I own you've more power over that than you have over your height. And Jane, don't look so put out, my dear; people won't love you less for being short, and you will be sure to grow as much as is really good for you. Now, girls, who's for a game of forfeits ?" Well, we had a good merry game, as you may suppose, for you tell me, my dears, that I'm a good playmate still, and I was a little bit younger then than I am now; yet even in the midst of our play I had now and then a little difficulty to keep matters quite smooth between Esther and the other school-girls. Esther was always boasting of her cleverness, and her companions in their turn grew cross, and said rather sharp things, which I think they must have afterwards been sorry for. At last Miss Celia declared she was tired of play, and said it was high time to divide among the girls the different articles from off the tree; she was, I remem |