the farmers spread them on their land for manure. Their flesh is of an excellent flavour, and if they were as scarce as they are numerous, they would be thought valuable at the tables of the rich. Their abundance, however, during the season, brings them within the reach of all classes, even the poorest, for whom they form a wholesome and nourishing food, when they are fresh. They are caught in nets of various kinds.

0. H. R.

A

THE LITTLE GIRL'S BASKET. LITTLE girl, seven or eight years old, was going up one of the steepest streets in N- ~, carrying a basket full of bits of wood and shavings on her head: she had no hood or bonnet, and her face and ears were very red and cold; so were her naked hands. The wind blew hard, and a great deal of sleet had fallen the day before, freezing as it fell, and making the pavements very slippery. As the little girl stepped slowly and carefully, to keep her basket well balanced, a big boy, dressed in warm comfortable clothes, went behind her, and slyly knocking her basket, sent it tumbling to the ground, scattering the wood in every direc

tion. The shavings went flying down the hill, and the basket rolled over and over after them. The boy who had done all this mischief, burst into a loud laugh. The little girl turned upon him a sorrowful and reproachful look, and said, "No, no," and then ran for her basket. She slipped and fell. Poor thing! her troubles were many, and she began to cry aloud. The boy still stood and laughed. Just then, a gentleman who had seen the whole, came up, and laying his hand on the boy's shoulder, said,

"See what you have done. Was it a clever thing for a great boy to knock over a little girl's basket on a cold, windy, slippery day? What skill or cunning was there in the trick? Any body could have done it, that had a heart bad enough. What fun was there in it? I cannot see any. Did you feel happy when you did it? I know very well you did not; although you laughed, you didn't feel right in your heart."

The boy said nothing, but held down his head and looked ashamed.

"You are sorry for what you have done," continued the gentleman; "I see that you are. Now, do all you can to make up for it. Pick up the wood, and as many of the shavings as you can, and put them in the basket for the little girl. Her fingers are already stiffened with the cold." The boy did so,

and then turning to the gentleman, said, "Shall I put the basket on her head, sir?" "No, was the answer;

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you are stout and strong, you had better carry it home for her. You ought to help her all you can, after what you have done."

"Where do you live?" said the gentleman to the little girl. "Plemot Street," she answered in broken English. "Plymouth Street; that is not far from here. What is your name?"

"Lena Schneider."

You

are a little German girl, are you not?" he asked. She nodded her head, smiling as she did so, for though he was a stranger, her heart was warmed by his sympathy and kindness. Pleasant tones and kind acts make acquaintance and friendship and love very quickly. Oh, how much happiness they make both for those who give and those who receive them.

The gentleman walked beside the little Lena on her way to her home, while the boy followed with her basket. She turned into a narrow street of old wooden houses, and stopped at the cellar-way of one of them: "Thank ye; good-by," she said, reached for her basket.

"Do you live here ?" asked the gentleman. She again nodded her head and smiled. "We'll go in and see your mother," said he. Lena went down the old stairs, and opening a door, led them into a low, dimly

lighted cellar, where sat a woman making baskets. On a blanket by her feet lay a miserable child, though its face looked old and withered. Two other children were sitting on the floor playing with small pieces of basket-stuff. The mother and Lena spoke. together in German, and the mother rose to offer what seats she had to the visitors, while Lena put some of the wood she had been gathering, on the dying fire. The gentleman asked some questions about the family, but the mother could not understand a word of English. He learned from Lena that the husband and father had died on the passage from Germany; that their money was all gone, and they had no friends in this part of the country to help them. He gave them some money, and then took his leave with the boy.

When they had reached the street, he asked the boy his name. "William Leonard," he answered. "Now, William," said the gentleman, as he wrote a few words on a scrap of paper, "I am sure you would be glad to do a little to help that poor woman and her children." "Yes, sir," said William, his face brightening as he spoke.

"Then take this note to my house, No. 54 W-street, get as large a basketful of firewood as you think you can well carry, and take it to the poor Germans. Those icy bits

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of old boards that they have, wont do much towards warming them in that open fireplace; they will need something more before I can get them a load of coal from the city, and a stove. Now, good-morning; will "And you not come and see me in a few days?" "I should be glad," said William. then you may perhaps be able to tell me, that there is more pleasure in helping people and doing them good, than in playing unkind tricks upon them." "I think there is, now,"

was the answer.

William got a very large load of fire wood at the house he was directed to, but it did not seem very heavy to him, his heart beat so lightly and happily. When he carried it to the cellar, he found the mother and children gathered around a rude table, on which there was a single dish of stewed vegetables, which they were sharing together. William was surprised at such humble fare. It did not seem to him sufficient, and he asked Lena why they had no bread or meat, and if they did not like them.

"Yes; goot, goot," she answered;

money.

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Willam told her that the gentleman had given her money, but she made him understand that it must be saved for their rent. He at once thought of a few pence which he I had in his pocket, hurried to the nearest