"Cake!" said his Mammy. "Epaminondas, you ain't got the sense you was born with! That's no way to carry cake. The cake is to wrap it all to carry way up nice in some leaves and put it in your hat, and put your hat on your head, and come along home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, Mammy," said Epaminondas.

Next day Epaminondas went to see his Auntie, and she gave him a pound of butter for his Mammy; fine, fresh, sweet butter.

Epaminondas wrapped it up in leaves and put it in his hat, and put his hat on his head, and came along home. It was a very hot day. Pretty soon the butter began to melt. It melted, and melted, and as it melted it ran down Epaminondas' forehead; then it ran over his face, and in his ears, and down his neck. When he got home, all the butter Epaminondas had was on him. His Mammy looked at him, and then she said,

"Law's sake! Epaminondas, what you got in your hat?"

"Butter, Mammy," said Epaminondas; "Auntie gave it to me."

"Butter!" said his Mammy. "Epaminondas, you ain't got the sense you was born with! Don't you know that's no way to carry butter? The way to carry butter is to wrap it up in some leaves and take it down to the brook, and cool it in the water, and cool it in the water, and cool it in the water, and then take it on your hands, careful, and bring it along home."

"Yes, Mammy," said Epaminondas.

By and by, another day, Epaminondas went to see his Auntie again, and this time she gave him a little new puppy-dog to take home.

Epaminondas put it in some leaves and took it down to the brook; and there he cooled it in the water, and

cooled it in the water, and cooled it in the water; then he took it in his hands and came along home. When he got home, the puppy-dog was dead. His Mammy looked at it, and she said,

"Law's sake! Epaminondas, what you got there?" "A puppy-dog, Mammy," said Epaminondas.

"A puppy-dog!" said his Mammy. "My gracious sakes alive, Epaminondas, you ain't got the sense you was born with! That ain't the way to carry a puppydog! The way to carry a puppy-dog is to take a long piece of string and tie one end of it round the puppydog's neck and put the puppy-dog on the ground, and take hold of the other end of the string and come along home, like this."

"All right, Mammy," said Epaminondas.

Next day, Epaminondas went to see his Auntie again, and when he came to go home she gave him a loaf of bread to carry to his Mammy; a brown, fresh, crusty loaf of bread.

So Epaminondas tied a string around the end of the loaf and took hold of the end of the string and came along home, like this. (Imitate dragging something along the ground.) When he got home his Mammy looked at the thing on the end of the string, and she said,

"My laws a-massy! Epaminondas, what you got on the end of that string?"

"Bread, Mammy," said Epaminondas; "Auntie gave it to me."

"Bread!!!" said his Mammy. "O Epaminondas, Epaminondas, you ain't got the sense you was born with; you never did have the sense you was born with; you never will have the sense you was born with! Now I ain't gwine tell you any more ways to bring truck home. And don't you go see your Auntie, neither. I'll go see her my own self. But I'll just tell you one thing,

Epaminondas! You see these here six mince pies I done make? You see how I done set 'em on the doorstep to cool? Well, now, you hear me, Epaminondas, you be careful how you step on those pies!"

"Yes, Mammy," said Epaminondas.

Then Epaminondas' Mammy put on her bonnet and her shawl and took a basket in her hand and went away to see Auntie. The six mince pies sat cooling in a row on the doorstep.

And then, and then, - Epaminondas was careful how he stepped on those pies!

He stepped (imitate) — right — in the middle - of- every

one.

And, do you know, children, nobody knows what happened next! The person who told me the story did n't know; nobody knows. But you can guess.

The value of this story is to encourage children to use their own wits. It is the first lesson in the great living truth that the letter killeth and the spirit giveth life. Its humor makes it so much loved that the teacher can refer to it as a playful and effective suggestion to any child who is not "using the sense he was born with."

Read: "The Crow and the Pitcher," in The First Book of Stories for the Story-Teller, by Fanny E. Coe.

OCTOBER: THE BEST WAY TO GET AHEAD

Read: Esop's fables of "The Ant and the Grasshopper," "Hercules and the Wagoner," and "The Larks in the Cornfield."

During the early part of the month spend the time in reading each of the fables. Next day let one of the children repeat it.

Read: "The Sandy Road," from Jataka Tales, translated by T. W. Rhys Davids. This story illustrates perseverance.

Read: "Waiting for Something to Turn Up," by Phoebe Cary.

THE JACK-O'-LANTERN 1

BY JACOB ABBOTT

The wagon rolled into the yard with a load of large, plump, golden-cheeked pumpkins.

"Now, where shall we put them?" asked Rollo. "Yonder, on the grass, is a good place," replied Jonas. "Pile them up and we will leave them for a few days to dry in the sun." Jonas began to unload the wagon; he rolled the pumpkins toward Rollo, who piled them on the grass. The old white cow, standing in the road, stretched her neck over the fence and eyed the pumpkins with eager desire.

"Here is a green one, Jonas; shall I pile it up with the rest?"

"No," said Jonas, "it will not ripen. It is good for nothing but to give to the pigs or to make a Jack-o'lantern."

"A Jack-o'-lantern!" said Rollo; "what is a Jack-o'lantern?"

"Did you never see one?" asked Jonas.

"No," said Rollo; "what is it?"

"Why, you take a pumpkin and scoop out all the inside; then you cut eyes and nose and mouth in it.

1 From Rollo's Vacation.

At night you put a candle inside and carry it out in the dark, and it makes a great grinning face of fire." "Oh, Jonas, may I make one out of this green pumpkin?"

"Yes, you may do so. First bring the pumpkin to me; I will mark it for you."

Rollo brought the pumpkin, and Jonas, taking out his knife, marked a circle just below and all round the stem.

"There," said he; "that is for the cap. Now you must get a case-knife and make a deep cut all round this mark; then the cap will come off if you pull it by the handle. Then dig out the inside with an old iron spoon, leaving the shell about as thick as your finger.'

Rollo got the knife and the spoon. Then, seating himself on a log in the yard, he proceeded to make his Jack-o'-lantern, while Jonas went off to his work in the garden.

Before Rollo had quite completed his plaything he became tired, and concluded to leave it a little while and go and look for Jonas.

"Well, Rollo, have you finished the Jack-o'-lantern?" "No," replied Rollo; "I was tired; so I thought I would come and help you work and ask you to tell me a story."

"I do not think of any story just now, but I can give you some advice.”

"Very well," said Rollo; "give me some advice." "I will tell you two rules my old schoolmaster used to teach me, one for work and one for play. His rule

for work was this:

'What is once begun

Must always be done."

Rollo laughed at hearing this rule, and asked if all the old master's rules were in poetry.