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and, on retiring to rest, put up his stocking mail radiant with tinsel. “Look, papa; the and a petition to that effect. At early dawn very thing I have been wishing for all this he was up, and lifting his hose from the year! Santa Claus knew it, but finding it door-knob, sat down on the foot of the bed too big to go in my stocking, be left it on to examine the contents. A book. “Pshaw! the hall table. He's a glorious old fellow, when I am so tired of books." Next, a new after all!” slate and pencil. “What nonsense! when As we grow old we often perceive the for all the ciphering I need to do, my old lamp of our faith burning dim, and turn broken slate would answer as well." A to our little ones in the fond hope that we blank copy-book. Now Johnny's face look- | may borrow some drops of oil from their

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ed as blank as the book. A pair of gold | full blazing cressets. But here, alas! we sleeve-buttons. “This is too bad. Intend- are met by such a breeze of curious crossod to make me conceited and proud as Tom- questionings that we run serious risk of exmy Merton was of his silver knee-buckles.” tinguishing the little light which lingering The stocking was empty, and not even hope sentiment and timorous reason have permitremained at the bottom. Here was a whole ted us to cherish. year's accumulating expectations come to He who affects the society of little boys vaught. Then his swelling grief and indig- and girls must carry a dictionary in one nation broke forth. Santa Claus was a hum- pocket, an encyclopedia of general knowlbug and a fool. The tears started into his edge in the other, and, like the good Saint eyes, and he raised his foot to spurn the Francis, be prepared to assert a good many despicable gifts. We were eavesdropping, things, “not because he knows them to and now suggested that if he showed such be so, but because he can't afford to be temper, Santa Claus would cut his acquaint- stumped.” ance, and fill his stocking with bran next “Papa, what is this on my finger ?" winter. These prudential considerations "My son, it is a wart." checked his angry demonstrations, and by “What is a wart ?" the time he had dressed himself the clouds After some reflection we reply, “ It is an had cleared, and the sun of childhood again excrescence." beamed in his face. So he gathered up his “Well, what is an excrescence ?” presents respectfully, and started to exhibit Now we are puzzled, get out the dictionthem to the household. Presently we heard ary, and proceed to explain. “A wart is an a shout of triumph, and he burst into the excrescence, or a preternatural protuberroom arrayed in helmet, sword, and coat of ance.”

"In the name of sense, what is that ?" ing samples of the contents, like a mod

“Well, to give you a more satisfactory est gauger, until he had extracted the last and scientific elucidation of the subject, we drop from the precious cask. The seeds, acwill call it an “insensible extuberance.'” curately counted, were kept to plant an or

“ Pap, I believe you are fooling me. If angery, and the skin dutifully delivered to that's all you know about it, we may just as mamma to flavor a promised cake. well call it a wart."

As might readily have been foreseen, when “So we have always thought, my son; these boys became men, the first stuck his but when you grow up, and have studied two thumbs into his world, recklessly tearLatin and Greek and philosophy, and have ing it open as he had done his orange, degot through college, you will be astonished vouring estate, body, and soul in three to perceive what an advantage it gives one greedy swallows, dying at twenty-seven, so in the world to command an extensive vo- palled with the flavor of this life that he cabulary of jaw-cracking words and sono- scarcely wished for another. The careful rous titles for very common thoughts and cousin, now past threescore years, is still things."

sucking his portion through a pin-hole, still As the natural result of this prurient ap- straining for the last sweet drop, having petite for knowledge, our little ones soon squeezed his world until it is flat, stale, and lose that exquisite but indefinable charm unprofitable as a ship-biscuit after a long of Eden which clothes all childhood with a voyage. certain uniformity. Then we begin to re- Individual observation, however, will mark the diverse traits and peculiarities throw but little light on so comprehensive which indicate character, and oftentimes a subject, and to treat systematically the furnish a clew to the future destiny of the varieties and subvarieties of the puerile individual.

species, we will find it convenient to adopt More than half a century ago two little the popular classification and descriptivo boy cousins sat together earnestly specula- nomenclature, arranged on the descending ting on the arrival of a beloved aunt, just scale as follows: from the South, with a big trunk reported The little Gentleman, a variety chiefly found to be laden with tropical fruits expressly for the children. Very soon their expectancy was resolved by the receipt of a ripe golden orange each. Now at that day the orange was so rarely seen by us that it was encircled with the glamour of romance-an exotic so costly that when we occasionally got a pale, halfwilted specimen, it was carefully peeled and divided into compartinents enough to give every member of the family a taste. But here each cousin held in his hands a whole globe of fresh and succulent delight, to dispose of and enjoy according to his own will. Without pausing a moment to admire the beauty or snuff the external fragrance of his fruit, the first hurriedly tore it open, and burying his face in the luscious pulp,

"DONE STUNG HISBELF WID A BUMBLY-BEE.” squirting the rich juice from his hair to his heels, swallowed what he in cities and towns, more rarely in country managed to get in about three gulps, threw houses; generally the sons of widowed moththe skin into the street, and wished he had ers, or the only boy, with elder sisters; charanother. The other cousin meanwhile han- acterized by peculiar mildness of manner, dled his golden gift as if it bad been “a politeness to seniors, and obedience to mamgem too rich for use," tenderly manipu- mas and guardians; repeats hymns prettily, lating its yielding plumpness, voluptuous- stays awake in church, refuses candy for fear ly inhaling its refreshing fragrance, and of spoiling his teeth; is careful of his clothes, when he could no longer abstain, carefully and exhibits an abnormal dread of dirt; is opening a pin-hole in one end, and suck- rather timid and unenterprisiug; seldom gets only little boy you have got, and you surely don't want me to follow such a dangerous business as that ?"

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“How dangerous, my son ?" she answers, in surprise.

“Why, d’ye see, if I was to be a preacher, I might very likely have a call to be a missionary among the heathens, and then, d'ye see, I should be roasted and eaten."

Á little mortified at her bold boy's open confession of timidity, mamma then asks, "Pray what business do you mean to follow q”

“Why, of course, I mean to be a soldier," he answers, gallantly baring his baby sword.

The best specimens of the Chub are to be found in our most fertile rural districts. This variety is round, rosy-cheeked, and omnivorous. He lingers at the breakfast table until it is cleared off; then descends with a sigh of regret and a roll in each band. As he stuffs these in his pockets with prudent foresight, he says, “Mam, when will dinner be ready for I am going up in the orchard to

eat some peaches, and I reckon I'll be hungry THE DRUM-MAJOR.

pretty soon.” Our chub is moderately ad

dicted to play, but despises books, and don't hurt, and prefers playing with the girls; is a like work of any kind. He is agrarian in charming little fellow as a boy, but develops principle, and looks upon locked pantries feebly in this climate, and is rarely distin- and inclosed orchards as crimes against soguished in after-life out of his own family or ciety. His watch-word is Divide and Eat; social coterie.

then divide and eat again until all monopoThe little Man is a sturdier and more spicy lies have perished. Yet he is content with specimen than the foregoing, with higher a piece of pie in each hand, even if his neightemper and more physical vitality; restless, bor happens to have none. noisy, and unmanageable; running into dan- The Brat is a somewhat contemptuous soger and dirt with reckless audacity, and briquet given to the next variety in the derisking his bones and habiliments without scending scale—the most influential class in stopping to count the cost of mending. Yet country towns and villages, ruling by numhe is generous as brave; will share his cake bers and persistent activity, like the grassor candy with all comers; loves his mamma, hopper in Kansas, with the advantage of and listens dutifully to her sweet counsels, being lively at all seasons. summer he which enter at one ear and escape by the spends his time turning somersaults in the other; won't tell a lie to his papa, unless injudiciously cornered; at once the joy and vexation of the household, the terror and pride of his parents, who, foreseeing the important part such a character is destined to play in the world, are naturally solicitous about the career best fitted to develop his genius. Ever since the days of little Samuel, pious mammas continue to nurture a preference for that calling, in their opinion the most safe and honorable in this life, and promising the largest interest in the world to come; so the little man is invited to join the consultation, and, with a fond caress, she asks if he wouldn't like to be a preacher.

“A preacher !” reiterates young Hopeful, looking chap-fallen and alarmed. “Why, mamma, I'm the

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TUE WHELP.

dirt, swinging on cows' tails, and "skinning ready to question even the justice of Provithe cat" on wagon poles, throwing stones, dence itself. That Being is the Drum-Major robbing birds' vests, fighting bumble-bees, in all his glory. and wrangling over games of marbles, hop- The Whelp is a thoroughly mean specimen scotch, and the like. In winter he concen- of boyhood, lacking in moral sense and nattrates himself upon sliding on gutters and ural affections; cowardly, cruel, and unponds, sledding, and snow-balling at the trustworthy; a positive character which street corners. Unlike the chub, he would may be temporarily repressed and cowed rather play than eat, and luxuriates in noise by terror, but never to be relied on. He is and mischief. He despises literature, and usually dirty and unlettered, but is confined is careless to a fault in the matter of dress. to no class, and sometimes appears in his He will, however, condescend to wear boots worst phases amidst the advantages of pious in winter if he happens to bave a pair ; don't training and surrounded by affluence. For

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object to a hat, if the crown is sufficiently tunately for society, these specimens are ventilated; and if he wears a shirt, carefully few and far between, scarcely numerous avoids any foppish display of that garment enough to constitute a distinct class, but about the neck and wrists. The brat is ex- rather to be regarded as monstrosities, the uberant in his cheerfulness, delighting in his accidental mistakes of freakish nature. free and irresponsible estate, envying nei- To the above list we might add the Mountther fame nor riches, respecting neither age, aineer, with tow head and rodent teeth—a sex, nor condition-with one exception: in virile living class with numerous subvariethe presence of that great Being he is over- ties, but local; and finally the children of powered, breathless with mingled awe and the poets, the boy who stood on the burnadmiration, shrinking with the conscious- ing deck, the boy of the Arctic, and divers ness of his own insignificance, doubting the gamins, and little draggle-tailed children sufficiency of republican institutions, and that have served as stocks for the roman

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What shall we do with them

God bless our sweet girls! If that "youth with faunting feathers” fails to come to time, or Gratiano lacks the wit and courage to win the charmed casket, we are always thankful enough to keep them to adorn our own homes and cherish our declining years; but “Little Breeches" must have a career of his own.

The wise Caliph Omar has said, “A man is not like his father, but resembles the age in which he lives." Yet a wiser than the caliph solemnly asserts that, “As the old cock crows, the young one learns." And we see for evermore, by the combined influence of hereditary instinct and the faculty of imitation, the son following in the footsteps of the father. All unbidden, the gardener's boy limbs his parent's trees and transplants his potted flowers; the carpenter's son cuts his big toe off with his daddy's adze; the artist's hope sticks his fat little thumb through the palette, and bedaubs papa's pictures with the complacency of patented genius; as soon as the young hero cau fairly

toddle, he drags the old cers, Sunday-school books, and tract societies sabre from its sheath and smashes the teafor ever so many years. From some inherent things, just as he has heard the old soldier (lefect of constitution, these children always say he used to "slither” his country's eneilie early, and as we don't see them around mies: so we may fairly trust to stock as a nowadays, we presume the breed is extinct. basis for direction. In training, we prefer At the conclusion of all our reflections on Rarey's method to Solomon's; and for the boys and girls, we are invariably met with rest, we are beginning gravely to suspect the spectre of an interrogation point pro- that we learn more good from our children pounding the solemn and perplexing query, than we are able to teach them in return.

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THE ARTIST'S BON.

LOVE'S SOVEREIGNTY.
Though Love loves well all things of outward grace

That poets praise and gentle ladies prize,

Yet lives he not by favor of blue eyes,
Or black or brown, or aught that he may trace
In features faultless as the perfect face

Of Art's ideal. No! his essence lies

Deep in the heart, not in its changing dyes
On lip and cheek. He has his dwelling-place
'In the life's life. As violets deck the May-

Which yet survives when these have passed away-
All lovely things are Love's; but, ne'ertheless,

Health, youth, and beauty, though they serve him well,

Are but Love's ministers; his sovereign spell
Lives in his own immortal loveliness!

JOHN G. SAXE.

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