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Two paths before us lie,

And each his choice must make;
One upwards to the sky,

One downwards to the lake.
Will any choose the lake of woe?
Each heart must answer, Yes or No.
'Tis only to delay

A little, little more,
And put the thought away,

As we have done before;
Forget to pray, consent to sin :
The downward path will thus begin.
Then further, faster on,

The steady foot descends:
A tender conscience gone,

And care for warning friends; Then pleasure take on Sabbath days, Words bad and bold, in wanton ways. Thus smooth, and broad, and steep,

The dreadful road is found;
It needs no.sudden leap,

'Tis only slippery ground.
And shall we venture thus to go
One step towards the lake of woe ?
No; there's a narrow way,

Straight up from death and sin;
And those who seek it, may

Be safely led therein. Honour and life that path attend, CHRIST is the door, and Heaven the end. Oh! let us each reply,

That better path we choose,
We travel to the sky,

Whoever may refuse.
Help, gracious Saviour, help, bestow,
And keep us from the lake of woe!


FEEDING THE CATTLE IN WINTER. DURING Spring, Summer, and Autumn, there is mostly, in this country, where we have showers all the year round, plenty of sweet grass for the cattle ; but in Winter, when the snow comes and covers all the fields over with a thick white mantle, what are they to do then? The farmer always thinks of this, and takes care, like a prudent man, to have a good supply of food ready for them, and he does it in this way.

In the spring and early summer the grass grows very rapidly, and there is usually more then, in all his fields, than all his cattle can eat. So he puts more cattle into one field, and leaves another field to grow until the grass is ripe, and then cuts it down and turns it over until it is dry, and so


makes what is called hay of it. This he brings home and stacks up ready for winter. When winter comes and the ground is covered with snow, and the poor sheep and cows, though they push their noses under the snow. to seek it, cannot find enough to eat, he brings them a good feed of fresh hay, which is a great treat to them. Many a time, on a winter evening, may the cattle be seen following the farmer's labourer, when he brings them a fresh supply, all down the field, to the crate into which he throws it; and when he leaves it, and turns round to look at them, they all seem so satisfied and thankful that if they could speak they would say,

“ Thank you for thinking about us and bringing us this good supper."

While writing this, to explain the picture, I could not help thinking that children are something like cattle for they want providing for. Boys and girls dont think much about food and clothing, and a warm fireside, and beds to sleep on, but their parents do, and take care to provide for them whatever will make them happy. Ought they not, then, to be very thankful to their fathers and mothers for all the labour, and pains, and expense, they are at to keep them from harm and make them comfortable by day and by night? Never can children repay their parents for all they have done for them, except by their loving obedience. This they can do, and this I hope you do. Never forget that

Every comfort-food and raiment,

House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care and payment;

All thy wants are well supplied !


" ADIEU !" father Winter gravely said

To the world, when about to quit it; With his old white wig half off his head,

As it never made to fit it.

"Adieu! I'm going to the rocks and caves,

To leave all here behind me; Or, perhaps I shall sink in the northern waves,

So deep that none can find me!" “Good luck, good luck, to your hoary locks!"

Said the gay young Spring advancing; “Go take your nap 'mid the caves and rocks,

While I o'er the earth am dancing.
There is not a spot where your foot has trod,

You hard, old, clumsy fellow,-
Not a hill, nor a field, nor a single sod,

But I have got to mellow.
And then I shall spread them o'er with grass,

That will look so fresh and cheering,
None will regret that they let you pass

Far out of sight and hearing.
The fountains that you lock up so tight,

When I shall give them a sunning,
Will sparkle and play in my gladdening light,

And the brooks will set off a running. I'll speak in the ground to the hidden root,

Where you have kept it sleeping,
And bid it send up the tender shoot,

And set the wild vine creeping.
The boughs that you caked all o'er with ice,

Till 'twas chilling e'en to behold them,
I shall stick them all round with buds so nice;

My breath can alone unfold them.

And when the tree is in blossoms dressid,

The bird, with her song so merry,
Will come on its limbs to build her nest,

By the sign of the future cherry.
The air and the earth by their joyfulness,

Shall show the good I am doing;
And the skies beam down with their smiles to bless

The course that I am pursuing !"
Said Winter, then, “I would have you learn

By me, my gay new comer,
To push off too, when it comes your turn,

And yield your place to Summer.”



We have told you the tale about this famous King, how, when driven by the Danes to seek shelter in a cow-herd's cottage, in the isle of Athelney, he was scolded by his wife for letting the cakes burn on the hearth. For some time his followers thought he was dead, or had left the kingdom, as they could not hear of him. At length he found means to make himself known to some of his trusty friends. The fact that he was alive soon spread, and gave new life and hope to all who heard the news; but great caution was used, and secret steps were taken to raise forces to help him to regain his throne and kingdom.

The very spot where Alfred hid himself is not now known exactly, but a golden neck jewel, on which the words

ALFRED HAD ME MADE” were engraved, was found, many years after, in the vicinity. It is now in the British Museum.

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