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Meanwhile the head workman had noticed the prints of feet making a beaten path to the waterside. Now he saw what had become of the stones.

It was not long before the boys' fathers knew what they had done. You may be sure that the boys were sorry then. afraid of what his father would say than he was of the worst whipping.

66

As for Ben, he was more

'Benjamin," said his father, "how could you take those stones which did not belong to you? What could have made you do it?"

"Why, father," replied Ben, "I thought that the stones would be useful to more people as a wharf than as a house. Only one man could enjoy the house, but all the boys and the people going up and down the stream in boats would enjoy the wharf.”

"My son," said Mr. Franklin, "you did very wrong in taking what did not belong to you. Never think for a moment that good will come of doing wrong. Remember that nothing but

evil will ever come out of evil deeds. Do not forget this lesson."

"I will never forget it again," said Benjamin, bowing his head.

In all his later life he was famous for the same things that made him a leader among boys, but he never forgot the lesson he had learned from his father.

Adapted.

MARJORIE'S ALMANAC

BY THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH

Robins in the tree-top,

Blossoms in the grass,

Green things a-growing
Everywhere you pass;
Sudden little breezes,

Showers of silver dew,
Black bough and bent twig

Budding out anew;

Pine-tree and willow-tree,

Fringed elm, and larch,——
Don't you think that May-time's

Pleasanter than March?

Apples in the orchard
Mellowing one by one;
Strawberries upturning

Soft cheeks to the sun;
Roses faint with sweetness,
Lilies fair of face,

Drowsy scents and murmurs
Haunting every place;
Lengths of golden sunshine,

Moonlight bright as dayDon't you think that summer's Pleasanter than May?

Roger in the corn-patch
Whistling negro songs;
Pussy by the hearth-side
Romping with the tongs;
Chestnuts in the ashes
Bursting through the rind;
Red leaf and gold leaf
Rustling down the wind;
Mother" doin' peaches"
All the afternoon,—

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Little fairy snow-flakes
Dancing in the flue;
Old Mr. Santa Claus,
What is keeping you?
Twilight and firelight
Shadows come and go;
Merry chime of sleigh-bells

Tinkling through the snow;
Mother knitting stockings,
Pussy's got the ball,

Don't you think that winter's
Pleasanter than all?

THE LAST LESSON IN FRENCH

BY ALPHONSE DAUDET

I

That morning I was late in going to school and was much afraid of being scolded. Master Hamel had said to us that he would question us on verbs, and I did not know the first word of them. Once the thought came to me to miss the class and make my way across the fields.

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