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1. A young lady sought out a fairy's green bowers. The queen sat enshrined in her kingdom of

flowers. " A boon," said the maiden; “ I crave it from

thee; Give beauty, give beauty, good fairy, to me.”

2. The queen, from the bell of a wild flower, drew

Two caskets, each wet with the bright morning


The one, a plain box from the leaf of a vine,
The other, as gay as a gem from the mine.

3. “ Thy choice," said the fairy; "and on it depends

The kind of that beauty I give to my friends; For know, little maiden,” she added with grace, “ There is beauty of heart and beauty of face.”

4. A moment of doubt, and her wish was expressed;

The prize was selected the lady loved best;
And, little surprised, the fairy queen heard

little casket was the one she preferred.

5. They parted. A few years had rolled swiftly

away, When the fairy was sought by the lady one day. The gift she rejected far brighter had grown, While that she selected was faded and gone.

6. The sad lesson now was revealed to her plain, That “beauty of face” was but transient and

vain. So all little misses should act a wise part, And early make choice of the “ BEAUTY OF



1. The star, whose radiant beams adorn

With vivid light the rising morn;
The season changed, with milder ray
Cheers the sweet hour of parting day.
So friendship, of the generous breast
The earliest and the latest guest,
In youth's rich morn with ardor glows,

And brightens life's serener close.
2 None are supinely good — through toil and pain,

And various arts, the steep ascent we gain;
This is the scene of combat, not of-rest;
Man's is laborious happiness at best.
On this side death, his dangers never cease;
His joys are joys of conquest — not of peace.

3. Dare to be true. Nothing can need a lie;

A fault which needs it most, grows two thereby.

4. I see the right, and I approve it too ;

Condemn the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue.

5. True happiness is to no place confined,

But still is found in a contented mind.

6. Look round the world - how very few

Know their own good, or knowing it, pursue.

7. What is the blooming tincture of the skin,

To peace of mind and harmony within ?
What the bright sparkling of the finest eye,
To the soft soothing of a calm reply?
Can comeliness of form, or shape, or air,
With comeliness of words or deeds compare ?
No: those at first the unwary heart may gain;
But these, these only, can the heart retain.

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1. CONTEMPLATE, at this season of the year, one of the magnificent trees of the forest, covered with thousands and thousands of acorns.

2. There is not one of those acorns that does not carry within itself the germ of a perfect oak, as lofty and as wide spreading as the parent stock; which does not infold the rudiments of a tree that would strike its roots in the soil, and lift its branches toward the heavens, and brave the storms of a hundred winters.

3. It needs for this but a handful of soil to receive the acorn as it falls, a little moisture to nourish it, and protection from violence till the root is struck. It needs but these; and these it does need, and these it must have, and for want of them, trifling as they seem, there is not one of those acorns that will become a tree.

4. Look abroad through the cities, the towns, the villages of our beloved country, and think of what materials their population is, for the most part, made up. It is not animated machines, nor brute beasts: it is rational, intellectual beings.

5. There is not a mind, of the hundreds of thousands in our community, that is not capable of making large progress in useful knowledge; and no one can presume to tell or limit the number of those who are gifted with all the talent required for the noblest discoveries.

6. They have naturally all the senses and all the faculties — I do not say in as high a degree, but who shall say in no degree? -- possessed by Newton, or Franklin, or Fulton.

7. It is but a little which is wanted to awaken every one of these minds to the conscious possession and the active exercise of its wonderful powers, But this little, generally speaking, is indi pensa ble.

8. Providence has furnished the eye; but art must contribute the telescope, or the wonders of the heavens remain unnoticed. It is for want of the little, that the greatest part of the intellect, innate in our race, perishes undeveloped and unknown. 9. When an

acorn falls upon an unfavorable spot, and decays there, we know the extent of the loss it is that of a tree, like the one from which it fell; — but when the intellect of a rational being, for want of culture, is lost to the great ends for which it was created, it is a loss which no one can measure, either for time or for eternity.


1. So now, pretty robin, you've come to my door;

I wonder you never have ventured before.
You feared, I suppose, we should do you some

harm, But pray, sir, what cause could there be for alarm? 2. You seem to be timid I'd like to know why; I never have hurt

What makes

you so shy? You shrewd little rogue, I've a mind, ere you go, To tell you a thing it concerns you to know.


3. You think I have never discovered

your 'T'is hid pretty snugly, it must be confessed. Ha, ha! how the boughs are entwined all

around! No wonder you thought it would never be found.

4. You're as cunning a robin as ever I knew;

And yet, ha! ha! ha! I'm as cunning as you!

I know all about your nice home on the tree 'Twas nonsense to try to conceal it from me.

5. I know - for but yesterday I was your guest

How many young robins there are in your nest;
And pardon me, sir, if I venture to say,
They've had not a morsel of dinner to-day,

6. But you look very sad, pretty robin, I see, As you glance o'er the meadow, to yonder green

tree; I fear I have thoughtlessly given you pain, And I will not prattle so lightly again.

7. Go home, where your

mate and


little ones dwell; Though I know where they are, yet I never will tell. Nobody shall injure that leaf-covered nest, For sacred to me is the place of your rest.

8. Adieu ! for you want to be flying away,

And it would be cruel to ask you to stay;
But come in the morning, come early and sing,
For dearly I love you, sweet warbler of spring.


1. THUNDER -storms are not particularly pleasant things in the woods, but a traveller in the mountains is now and then compelled to take them. I have just passed through one, and, like all grand exhibitions of nature, it awakened pleasure in the midst of discomfort.

2. I was reclining the other day on the slope of a hill, from which I had a glorious view of the broken chain of the Adirondack. · From the ravishing

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