No, sir, he told me what to do last night; he had to go out very early this morning before the time, and

when he came back it would have been too late.

it?

Then you did not forget your father's directions?
No, sir.

Why?

I don't know, sir,—because I remembered it.
Would he have been angry, if you had forgotten

He wouldn't have been pleased, sir.

Why would he not?

She seemed surprised at my question, but after a pause said, He expects us to do what he orders, when he's away as well as when he's at home.

Would you have been displeased with yourself if

you had forgotten.

Yes, sir, I should have been

Why would you?

very

sorrowful.

Because my father would have been so sorrowful.

Because the fruit would not have been so nice for

his customers?

Yes, sir, but not all for that.

For what besides ?

Because he thinks we do not love God, when we do

not do as he bids us; and then he says we cannot love him.

The empty basket was now brought in, and the servant said, If you please, sir, this case was thrown in the basket amongst the dead leaves.

It was Anna's morocco case, and on opening it I found the picture within.

You saw this picture, yesterday, Jane?

Yes, sir.

That young lady has forgotten it; what will she do now to remember her father?

She can remember her father without it, sir. If you please, may I take my baskets, sir?

Are you in a hurry, Jane?

Yes, sir, if you please to excuse me, my mother wants me back as soon as I can.

I immediately took out the fruit, and giving her back her baskets, said, Make haste, then, my little girl.

She dropped a curtsey as she said, Yes, sir, thank you, sir; and I saw her from my window running homewards, looking neither to the right hand nor the left; and I could not help saying, Certainly, Mary is right in calling this little girl, a dear little girl.

The morocco case seemed to point out an opportunity,

and as there was still time, I put it in my pocket, intending to take it to its owner; and on my way called on Maria to accompany me in my visit: her parents cheerfully gave her to my care, and we proceeded.

We found Anna deeply engaged with her mother in examining a box of curious things, which seemed to be a new possession, and she called us to the table to examine them with her. As she unwrapt the several articles she said,

Papa was disappointed that he could not reach. home so soon as he expected, and he has sent me all these things to please me till he does come; see, Maria, what pretty things they are. She ran on for some time in terms of admiration: but she was evidently looking for some other thing, which did not meet her eye; at last, in a pouting disappointment, she struck the side of the box with her finger, saying,

Provoking papa! he has not kept his word.

Maria was engaged in examining some shells, and appealed at that moment to Anna, This is a very beautiful shell, do you know its name?

O never mind the shell! she answered, I have no pleasure at all now in anything; it was very provoking of papa to forget what he promised.

Perhaps he will bring it with him, Maria answered.

I shall not care about it then.

No, you will have your papa himself.

Anna threw herself down in her chair. OI don't care for anything now.

No, but you will then, Anna.

No, I shan't; I dare say he has forgotten it altogether.

Maria looked somewhat shocked, and as if to recall better feelings, she said, Oh! you had better look again at your beautiful picture, and when you see those eyes, and that mouth that smiled so sweetly, you will think of nothing but your dear papa!

Anna rather started, My picture! O that's true, my picture, what have I done with it?

You have it in your bosom, most likely, said Maria. My bosom! no. What have I done with it? It will be very ridiculous if I get the chain, and have lost the picture! what can I have done with it? She emptied her work-box, turned over her writing-desk ;all in vain. What can I have done with it? I will go and look in my drawers; and she went out in great haste.

Poor Anna! exclaimed Maria, what will she do if she has lost her papa's picture: I wish I could help

her to find it ;—and addressing herself to Mrs. Aston, said, Would you give me leave to follow Anna, to help her to search?

Certainly, my love; you know the way. Mrs. Aston and I were now left alone. She had a countenance of painful anxiety, and sighing, said to me,

Anna is a very good child on the whole, but there is a disposition in her I cannot correct. We can never obtain her obedience to our desires for her instruction, but by some artifice in the way of a bribe; promise to give her something, and she will then do anything; and having now found our weakness by our indulgence, she fails not to make her advantage of it. That picture she seems to have lost, was given to bribe her to apply her mind to overcome a difficulty she met with in arithmetic; no persuasion could induce her to try to work out a sum in long division, until she extorted the promise; and the gold chain was to be given in order to get her to learn a piece of music of which her father is extremely fond. I begin to think our system is a bad one; and as she has not perfected herself in the music, I requested her father not to send the chain: he has complied with this, but you see he has endeavored to soften the dis