"No, not exactly; for it is white, and smoke is more frequently black."

3. "Then, what is steam, mama?"

"It is just water greatly heated, my dear." "I could never have fancied how many things are made of water," cried Willie. "Snow is made of water, ice is made of water, and steam is made of water."

4. "There is this difference," said his mama; water is turned into snow and ice when it is very cold; and water is turned into steam when it is very hot." "But, mama, it is not very hot to-day, I am sure; look, there is snow falling as fast as it can fall."

5. "The weather is not hot, certainly," said his mama, "but the water in the urn is very hot, for it has been boiling over the fire for our breakfast, and the steam rises from that." Mama then held a teaspoon over the steam, and the steam being stopped and cooled by the cold teaspoon, was turned to water again-small tiny drops; but Willie saw that it was water, and he not only saw it, but he felt it too, for he put his finger into the spoon, and felt that it was wet.

6. "This is not a cold teaspoon, mama," said he, "for it has almost burnt my finger, it is so hot."

It was cold before I put it into the steam. What do you think has made it so hot now?" "Oh, the steam, to be sure!"

"Then you see, Willie, the steam has warmed the spoon, and the spoon has cooled the steam, and turned it into water."

7. "Now, mama, let us catch a little of the smoke that is going up the chimney, and see if the spoon will not turn it into water.”

8. Mama took another spoon and held it in the smoke. After some little time the bright silver began to look dingy, and then it was covered with little black spots. Willie touched it and said, "No; it is not wet; so smoke cannot be made of water." Then looking at his fingers, he exclaimed, "O mama! how I have dirtied my fingers with these nasty black spots!"

9. "No wonder," answered his mother; "for these black particles are what we call soot, and are parts of the coal which fly up from it while it is burning. It is the heat of the fire that changes the coal into smoke and soot."

10. “Then, mama," said Willie," though smoke is not made of water, it is like steam in one thing, for it rises up because it is made lighter than the air by means of heat."

"Very true," said his mama; 'coal is turned into smoke by heat, just as water is turned into steam by heat."

SUMMARY.-Willie and his mama had some talk about steam. It comes from water which has been heated. When steam is cooled it is changed into water again. It rises up because it is made lighter than the air by means of heat. The parts of coal which fly up from it while it is burning are called soot. It is the heat of the fire which changes the coal into smoke and soot. Cer-tain-ly, surely. Din-gy, dark.

Ex-claimed', called out.
Frequent-ly, very often.

QUESTIONS.

What is an urn? What is steam? How is water changed by cold? By heat? What hapI.R. III.

pens when steam is cooled? What is soot? Why do steam and soot rise up?

B

1. If you're waking, call me early, call me early, mother

dear,

For I would see the sun rise upon the glad new-year; It is the last new-year that I shall ever see,

Then you may lay me low in the mould, and think no more of me.

2. To-night I saw the sun set: he set and left behind The good old year, the good old time, and all my peace of mind;

And the new-year's coming up, mother, but I shall

never see

The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the

tree.

3. There's not a flower on all the hills; the frost is on the pane;

I only wish to live till the snowdrop comes again;

I wish the snow would melt, and the sun come out on high;

I long to see a flower so before the day I die.

4. Upon the chancel casement, and upon that grave of mine,

In the early, early morning the summer sun will

shine,

Before the red cock crows from the farm upon the

hill,

When you are warm asleep, mother, and all the world is still.

5. When the flowers come again, mother, beneath the waning light,

You'll never see me more in the long grey fields at night;

When from the dry dark wold the summer airs blow cool

On the oat-grass, and the sword-grass, and the bulrush in the pool.

6. I have been wild and wayward; but you'll forgive

me now;

You'll kiss me, my own mother, and forgive me ere

I go;

Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild, You should not fret for me, mother, you have another

child.

7. If I can, I'll come again, mother, from out my resting

place;

Though you'll not see me, mother, I shall look upon your face;

Though I cannot speak a word, I shall hearken what

you say,

And be often, often with you, when you think I'm

far away.

8. Good night, good night: when I have said good night for evermore,

And you see me carried out from the threshold of

the door;

Don't let Effie come to see me till my grave be grow

ing green;

She'll be a better child to you than ever I have been. 9. Good night, sweet mother, call me before the day is

born;

All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn ;

But I would see the sun rise upon the glad new-year; So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, mother

dear!

Chan-cel, part of a church.
Mould, earth, clay.

Wa-ning, fading.
Way-ward, thoughtless.

1. After the battle of Culloden, which was fought in 1746, on a moor about nine miles northeast from Inverness, Prince Charles Edward was forced to hide for some months in the wilds of the Highlands, till, by the aid of Flora Macdonald, he was able to escape to France.

2. During the anxious time when he wandered among the mountains, he sometimes found refuge in caves and cottages, without even a single ser