The Little Ones

Do you ever tbink how much work a cliild does in a day? How, from sunrise to sunset, the dwr little ieet potter round - 1; us, so :.mlessly. Climbing up here, knecling down there, running to anothcr plaee, but never fttilQ. - Twisting and turning, rolling, reacbing and doubling, as if teetiog every bono and rmiscle lor future nsca. Itis very curious to watch it. One who doeR ko rnay woll undeietand the cleop breatbing of tbc rosy liitle sleeper , as, with ene arm toased over its eurly head, it prepares for tho next day's gymnastics Tireless throngh the day, till thnt tiine comes, na the maternal Iovü thnt ro patient-ly accotnmodates itself, hoor after hour, to its thousand wants nnd caprices, real or fancied. A busy orea ture is a little child, To be looked upon with awe as well as delight, aa ta elear eye looks trustingly into faces that to God and man have essayed lo wear a inask. As it sits down in ite iittlo chair to ponder precociously over tho white He yon thought it ' iunny ' to toll it. A. rising and leaning on your knees, it saya, thoughtfully, in a tono that ahould provoke a toar, not a smile - " If I don't believo it." A lovely and yet a foarful thing is that Iittlo child. gjgf A pliyaieian accounting for the Southern rebelliön asciibcs it. to tho heat of the sun, aa it wasnotbing bnt a rash brenking out. "Duviiig tho Autumn gales tlic volume of nature is full of fly leaves.