WHO ARE YOUR COMPANIONS? It is said to be a property of the tree-frog, that it acquires the colour of whatever it adheres to for a short time. Just so it is with men. Whom do you prefer and choose as your friends? Do you love the society of the vulgar? Then you seek to be with the profane. In your heart you are like them. Are jesters or buffoons your choice friends? He who laughs at folly is himself a fool, and perhaps a very stupid one too. Do you love and seek the society of the wise and good. Is this your habit? Would you rather take the lowest seat among them? Then you have already learned to be wise and good, You may not have made much progress, but even a good beginning is not to be despised. Hold on your way, and seek to be a companion of all that fear God. So you shall be wise for yourself, and wise for eternity.

There is something inexpressibly sweet about little girls. Lovely, pure, innocent, ingenuous, unsuspecting, full of kindness to brothers, babies, and everything. They are sweet little human flowers, diamond dew-drops in the breath of morn. What a pity they should ever become scolding women, flirts, and coquettes!

A damsel was asked-When a lady and gentleman quarrel, and each considers the other at fault, which of the two ought to be the first to advance towards a reconciliation?' Her reply was, 'The best-hearted and the wisest of the two. An acquaintance suggests the propriety of changing the popular name needlework, to needless work.

A person asked a friend how he, who lived at so little expense, was not rich; since he knew he had an income of eight sovereigns per week, and did not spend more than two! The friend answered, 'Sir, I pay two; I lend two; I waste two; and I lose two. Those I pay are to my father and mother, who are poor. Those I lend are to my son, who, I trust, will pay me when I am old, as I now pay my father. Those I waste are for eating and drinking, to my wife, my daughter, and myself. Those I lose go for dresses to my wife and daughter.'

The higher the character a person supports, the more he should regard his minutest actions.

A former Duke of Cumberland was a remarkably fine boy, but very sullen. The queen, his mother, being angry with him one day, ordered him to his chamber. Soon after he returned, and the queen asked him what he had been doing. 'Reading the New Testament,' answered he, peevishly. What part?' said the queen.-He answered, 'Where it is said, "Woman, why troublest thou me?"'

Henry VIII. designing to send a nobleman on embassy to Francis I. with a severe menace, he begged to be excused, saying, 'Such a threatening message to so hot a prince as Francis I. might go near to cost him his life.'- Fear not,' said old Harry; 'if the French king should offer to take away your life, I would revenge you by taking off the heads of many Frenchmen now in my power.'-'But of all these heads,' replied the nobleman, there may not be one to fit my shoulders.'

If thou wouldst have a good servant, let the servant find a good master. Be not angry with him too long, lest he think thee malicious; nor too soon, lest he conceive thee rash; nor too often, lest he count thee humorous.

In the Memorials of Andrew Crosse, the electrician,' an anecdote is related of Theodore Hook, so famous for his improvisatore poetical powers: 'I remember hearing Mr Crosse say that he was once at a party with Mr Hook, when a Mr Winter was announced, a well-known inspector of taxes. Hook immediately roared out

'Here comes Mr Winter, inspector of taxes, I'll advise ye to give him whatever he axes, I'll advise ye to give him without any flummery, For though his name's Winter, his actions are summary.'

MORNING HYMN.

Father, let no day to come,
Of my life's decreasing sum,
At thy judgment-seat appear
As profaned or lavish'd here!
Thanks to thine own grace and might,
Once more I behold the light.
Let thy favour on me shine,
While the fleeting hours decline!
That I may not sink in dread,
As I verge to death's cold sleep,
When beside my fainting head
The beloved shall bend to weep!
Then, oh soothe the pang of death;
Bless them with my latest breath.
Lift us to thy heaven and thee,

Who hast quell'd death's victory! Two little girls were disputing for precedency, one the daughter of a wealthy brewer, the other the daughter of a gentleman of small fortune: 'You are to consider, miss,' said the brewer's daughter, 'that my papa keeps a coach.'-'Very true, miss,' said the other, and you are to consider that he likewise keeps a dray.'

A Greek poet used often to present verses to the Emperor Augustus, in hope of reward. The emperor wrote a Greek epigram, and gave it to the poet as a reward in kind. The Greek read it with high applause, and pulling out a few pence, gave them to Augustus, saying, 'If I had more, you should have more.' Great laughter arising. the emperor ordered the poet a sum worthy to give.

Woman has need of all the barriers, all the Never defences, which nature has given her! let woman be the wooer, save as the flowers woo with their sweetness-save as the stars woo with their brightness-save as the summer wind woos, silently unfolding the rose's heart.

Judge Story said, "The first duty of a lawyer is to his God and his religion; secondly, to his country and the law; thirdly, to himself; and lastly, to his client. Never mistake the law. Lie for no man, deceive no man. Be true to the court, true to your client.

MINNIE'S PRESENT. Everybody declared that Uncle Hollingsford would be ruined by his generosity. But this declaration had now been made for a number of years, and still he continued prosperous. His substance was like the widow's cruse of oil -giving only seemed to increase it. Every stray beggar who approached the farm was invited in, and fed, and warmed, and sent on his way rejoicing; all the poor relations, to the fortieth degree, cultivated a warm friendship for 'Cousin John,' and paid him frequent visits in proof of their esteem; and at Christmas and Thanksgiving times the family circle collected around him was perfectly patriarchal.

This propensity was a subject of neverceasing uneasiness to Aunt Ruth. She prophesied again and again that they would all came to the poor-house; but her husband only laughed, and said that 'he must give his cups of cold water;' and, as the children grew up, and daughters married, and sons went 'out west,' and all prospered and flourished, and the farm remained unsold, Aunt Ruth wondered more and more how it happened they had bread enough, and began to think that there must be some witchcraft in it.

But Uncle Hollingsford had just perpetrated an act, the enormity of which disturbed his domestic peace for a long while; and sometimes it seemed doubtful if the sky ever would be cleared. He suddenly took it into his head to look up the widow of a brother who had been dead several years; and knowing that poor Job never had possessed a knack for acquiring worldly goods, he resolved to examine into the condition of his family. Without telling Aunt Ruth of his plans, he went off very quietly by himself but he returned not as he came.

Aunt Ruth had prophesied that no good would come of this journey; but, when the waggon stopped, and she saw her husband lift out a little girl, she could scarcely believe her own eyes: To think that, after raising a family of eight children, and getting them well off her hands, John should go and bring home such a pest as that! It was too much for flesh and blood to stand!' So she looked coldly upon poor Minnie, who shrank back into herself, and eyed her husband severely.

But Uncle Hollingsford could some

times assert himself, and he did upon this occasion. He had found his brother's widow in delicate health, with several children; and, in order to lighten her burden, he invited Minnie, a pretty child of fourteen, to accompany him home on a visit of indefinite length. But perceiving that the child's sojourn with them was not likely to prove a very pleasant one, as matters now stood, he approached his wife with a resolute air, and whispered something that had the effect of procuring Minnie a sort of welcome that struck her as not over cordial.

But Uncle Hollingsford had gained his point; Minnie was regularly established at the farm, and if not much noticed by her aunt, she soon became a great favourite with her uncle. And not only with him, but with all who came to the house; for she was a sunny-tempered little thing, making life and gladness wherever she went.

The huge kitchen-fire burned all the more brightly for the snapping cold that reigned without; and the kitchen itself sent forth a steam of savoury viands infinitely refreshing to a hungry palate. It was almost breakfast-time; and punctual as the clock, the gaunt figure of Ichabod Poole strode into the kitchen, and sank into the accustomed seat by the chimney

corner.

Of all Hollingsford's protegés, this was the one with whom Aunt Ruth had least patience. For ten years he had not missed a morning, unless detained by illness; and yet he always came in with the same observation that, as he happened to be passing by, he thought he would just drop in.

Ichabod had been a respectable farmer; but being what the country people call 'thriftless,' he had suffered things to go to wreck and ruin, until there remained to himself and wife only the dilapidatedlooking red cottage, and the small strip of land around it. People said that breakfasts and dinners were doubtful at the red cottage, and suppers almost unheard of; and it was maliciously whispered that Ichabod was very much inclined to be 'neighbourly' at meal-times.

He always went to Uncle Hollingsford's for breakfast; but, upon being invited into the dining-room, invariably observed that there was no occasion;' wife would be expecting him at home,' &c. This was a regular part of the performance, and it required considerable exertion to

D

dislodge him from the chimney-corner. Aunt Ruth scarcely attempted to sinother her indignation, when, after declaring that 'he didn't want anything,' 'he wasn't hungry,' &c., he would sit down to the plentiful table, and sweep off all before him.

The family was broken up and scattered, and sons and daughters would return to visit the home of their childhood, so changed, that they could scarcely be recognised; but there was Ichabod in just the same seat, and just the same words in his mouth, as when they left him three years ago. Everybody said that it was a perfect farce; but Uncle Hollingsford was immoveable, and insisted upon treating Ichabod with politeness.

It was the morning after Minnie's arrival, and her uncle desired her to inform Mr Poole that breakfast was ready. This she did very sweetly; and Ichabod, making a feint of rising, replied:

I was just going, my dear-time that I was off, long ago. Stop to breakfast! Oh no, thank you-my wife will be waiting for me.'

Minnie returned to the dining-room, and innocently repeated what she supposed to be Mr Poole's refusal. To her great surprise, her uncle laughed out, and her aunt had a very queer expression about the mouth.

'Waiting what?' she exclaimed, in a tone of cutting sarcasm; 'maybe they're going to have fritters for breakfast, and they'll be spoiled-he'd better go.'

Come, come, wife,' replied Uncle Hollingsford, when he had stopped laughing, 'this is too bad they can't help being poor.'

'Yes, they can help it,' said Aunt Ruth, tartly, 'just as well as you, or I, or anybody else can help it. They needn't quarter themselves on their neighbours, at any rate-I should think he'd be ashamed of himself!'

Minnie was again despatched to the ⚫ kitchen, with an imperative summons to Mr Poole. She soon returned with his answer

'He said there was no occasion.' Laughing more heartily than ever at Minnie's innocence and perplexed look, Uncle Hollingsford went to the kitchen, as he had done for ten years, and marched Ichabod Poole in to breakfast. Minnie was astonished at the rapid disappearance of the viands; but Ichabod had taken quite a fancy to the child, and regarded her very benignly.

As he went home that morning, he began revolving in his own mind a plan for her benefit. John Hollingsford was a good sort of a fellow, and as he had now taken breakfast there several times (!), he believed that he would make the child a present, by way of testifying his gratitude. Christmas was rapidly approaching, and it would be an agreeable surprise.

Bright and early, Christmas morning, Ichabod made his appearance with a covered basket, and in the basket there was a Maltese kitten. Minnie was enraptured; her heart fairly overflowed with love to all sorts of pets, and the kitten was a perfect little beauty. Just the right size to be graceful-it was plump and sleek, and the very colour to wear a blue riband around its neck.

After gratefully thanking Mr Poole, Minnie displayed her treasure in triumph; but, at sight of the kitten, Aunt Ruth's cup of wrath was overflowing. She couldn't bear the sight of a cat-she detested cats-it would always be putting its little dirty nose into the milk and cream-and it was just exactly like Ichabod to give a present that would soon eat its own head off!

Minnie looked as frightened as though she had actually expected to see the kitten perform this feat, and cast an imploring look at her uncle, when Aunt Ruth muttered something about sending it back where it came from.

'Oh no,' replied her husband; 'I have too much respect for Ichabod's feelings to do that, and the little animal will be a great comfort to Minnie. You remember Whittington and his cat?' he continued; perhaps this one will bring us good luck.'

Aunt Ruth looked very disdainful, and scarcely spoke to Minnie all day. But Minnie was used to these fits, and became too much absorbed in her kitten to feel troubled about anything.

'Well!' exclaimed Aunt Ruth, 'I hope you are satisfied now! I told you that it would come to this; and I'm only surprised that it didn't come long ago!'

This was but poor consolation for a man who had just been confiding to his wife the story of his misfortunes, and Uncle Hollingsford looked into the fire, and sighed. But all attempts at consolation, unless they came in the shape of bankbills, would have proved unavailing; for

Uncle Hollingsford, led away by his generous heart, had indorsed largely for a neighbour in distress, and the neighbour had gone down, dragging his benefactor with him; and now the friend of so many unfortunates saw himself threatened with a sheriff's sale, and he and his wife driven forth, in their old age, from the home which had sheltered them for so many years.

Where were all those whom he had helped out of similar difficulties? Those who had eaten at his table, and slept beneath his roof, in the days of his prosperity? His wife asked this in a cold, cutting tone, that made him wince, for man's ingratitude is hard to bear.

'It is strange,' said Uncle Hollingsford, musing, 'that father left no more money. There was little beside the stock, and everybody was surprised at it-he was always so saving.'

'If you had copied him in that respect, it would be better for us now,' replied Aunt Ruth.

Uncle Hollingsford shook his head. He did not dwell upon his father's weakness, but everybody knew his miserly disposition; and even in his last moments he groaned at the idea of parting with his cherished possessions. When he died, people said that there would be gold and bank-bills found in broken teapots and the toes of old stockings; but as very few such discoveries were made, they puzzled over it in much perplexity. Perhaps it was this example before his eyes that led his son to the opposite extreme; for certain it was that no two could be more unlike.

It was a mild day, and Minnie, accompanied by her kitten, had gone to the old garret, whose mysterious nooks she loved to explore; and there she could have a romp with kitty, in the full enjoyment of being beyond the reach of Aunt Ruth's reprimand.

Uncle Hollingsford had been very grave of late; and half-anticipating something dreadful, she scarcely knew what, Minnie leaned listlessly against the rough beams, and watched the gambols of the Maltese kitten, who seemed challenging her to participate in the fun. But Minnie was thinking of other things; and she fixed her large melancholy eyes on the blue sky, that seemed so near the garret window, and wondered if Uncle John was in want of money. She had overheard some words that led her to suspect this; and she began to think that she might go and

teach school, or do something to help him.

Kitty was making a terrible scratching against the boards, and Minnie endeavoured to call her off. She really believed that she had discovered a mouse-it would be horrible to see her kill and eat it, like other cats-she should not love her a bit after that—and Minnie tried to pull her away. But kitty was very busy scratching something out from under a board; and, having put in one velvet paw, she succeeded in dislodging a dark-coloured roll, that was certainly not a mouse, nor anything else alive.

Minnie examined it with trembling fingers, and found bank-bills to the amount of 5000 dollars! With glowing cheeks, and eyes sparkling with excitement, she rushed into the room where her uncle sat, buried in his gloomy thoughts; and paying no attention to her aunt's exclamation of 'Marion Hollingsford! go back this instant, and shut the door!' she placed the soiled and crumpled notes in his listless hands.

'Where did you get these?' said he, so calmly that Minnie feared he cared very little about them.

But when the story was told, Minnie and her pet were both lifted in Uncle Hollingsford's arms, and his tears rained down upon the bright curls, as he whispered

'Minnie, do you know that you and kitty have saved your old uncle from being turned upon the world? Ruth!' said he, looking reproachfully at his wife.

It was foreign to Aunt Ruth's nature, but she gave way, for once, and folded Minnie in the first warm embrace that she had ever bestowed upon her.

'I wish that Ichabod Poole was here,' said Uncle Hollingsford. 'Had it not been for his somewhat unwelcome present, this money would still have been lying idle.. I should really like to see him.'

'Can't you wait until to-morrow morning?' said Aunt Ruth, so drily, that it extorted from her husband the first hearty laugh he had indulged in for a long while.

The farm, of course, was not sold, and the very singular manner in which it had been preserved travelled about like wildfire, and Minnie and her kitten became objects of the greatest curiosity. Ichabod now began coming to dinner, on the strength of his gift; and if he had taken

up his residence there altogether, Uncle Hollingsford would, doubtless, have made him welcome.

Time passed on; the kitten had grown into a cat, and Minnie had become a young lady. Her cousins laughingly declared that she had entirely superseded them in the affections of their parents; and a stranger would certainly have supposed that she was the pet daughter of the house.

One day, an advertisement, to the following effect, appeared in 'The Village Organ,' published in the small town near which the Hollingsfords lived.

'Lost, on Thursday last, a Maltese cat, with a blue riband around its neck. On returning the same to the office of 'The Organ,' or Westlake Farm, the finder will be suitably rewarded.'

The next week 'The Organ' contained the following answer: 'The finder of the Maltese cat, advertised in last Saturday's 'Organ,' is extremely anxious to retain it. What would the owner consider a sufficient inducement for parting with the animal?'

Minnie was perfectly indignant, both at the insult, and at being separated so long from her pet; so she sat down and wrote: 'If the finder of the Maltese cat does not immediately restore her to her rightful owner, he or she will be searched out and exposed before the community.'

When the paper containing this threat appeared, it brought a reply from the culprit in person. Aunt Ruth was looking forth from the sitting-room window, when she suddenly exclaimed, 'What on earth is that handsome stranger coming here for? I declare,' she continued, "if he hasn't got Fortuna in his arms!' This was the name the kitten had received on that memorable day when it saved the Westlake Farm.

armed all Minnie's indignation, in spite of herself, 'that you will pardon my unintentional rudeness? I expected to find in the owner of the cat some indigent old lady, or thoughtless boy, to whom a few dollars would prove an irresistible allurement; and, as I had taken a great fancy to the animal, I concluded to try the experi

ment.'

'And I,' replied Minnie, frankly, 'expected to see, in the finder of Fortuna, a disagreeable, purseproud individual-but whether lady or gentleman I could not decide.'

The half compliment conveyed in this answer, brought a look of gratitude from the visiter that made Minnie wish she had not said it; but, just as an awkward crisis was approaching, Uncle Hollingsford entered the room, and politely saluted the stranger, whom he recognised as the new proprietor of a handsome country-seat on the other side of the village.

The visiter introduced himself as Mr Emlay, and at once entered into an easy and agreeable conversation with the master of the house. The story of the kitten was told and commented upon; and the stranger learned, by adroit questions, that Uncle Hollingsford's circumstances were by no means flourishing. He immediately expressed his want of an agent to oversee his place, which he pronounced to be sadly neglected, and acknowledged himself totally unqualified for the office. He did not lose sight of Minnie's speaking eyes, which rested upon her uncle almost beseechingly-this was just the thing for him, it would require so little labourbut Uncle Hollingsford was not the one to recommend himself, and Mr Emlay was obliged to ask him point blank.

After awhile it was all arranged; and the stranger departed with a warm invitation to renew his visit.

Minnie opened the door with a heightened colour, and a somewhat elevated head, for the offer of buying her favourite was still fresh in her mind. The visiter, a handsome man of thirty-five, with an air of foreign travel, doffed his hat with a lowly obeisance to the beautiful apparition before him; and, perhaps, he too felt conscious of his misdemeanour, for he was decidedly embarrassed, as he followed Minnie into the room.

'I hope,' said he, with a smile that dis

'If Ichabod were here now, I could almost give him a hug,' continued the old

man.

'He will be here to-morrow morning, replied Aunt Ruth, as drily as ever.

Uncle Hollingsford entered at once upon his 'agency,' which turned out to be very little beyond a name and a salary; and Mr Emlay availed himself to the full