Though we are often told that "boys will be boys," no one has yet insisted that "boys is boys, and one kind of boy is as bad as another." Yet there is a very general impression, chiefly among those who never had any boys of their own, that they are very much alike, indeed. On the contrary, the difference is so great between boys and "other boys" as to lead one almost to doubt that they really belong to the same species. It is the people who never had any boys who make this fatal mistake. It is the sisters and the cousins and the aunts, it is the school-teacher and the Sunday-School teacher, perhaps, but never by any

chance the mother. No matter how large her flock, it never occurs to her that Johnnie and Peter and Tom are made of the same stuff and amenable to the same treatment.

I knew an aged mother who said: "When my three boys were little fellows we were very poor. One Thanksgiving Day I could not make them any better dinner than on other days. We had corn-meal, and I varied the food by baking a Johnny-cake once in the day, making a hasty pudding to eat with milk in the morning, and fried mush of what was left for supper. The three meals were all the same thing-just cornmeal and water and salt-and these were all my own boys, each with plenty of father and mother in him, but as unlike each other as

porridge and Johnny-cake and mush. They showed their unlikeness in the smallest things. Indeed, the differences in them were constantly emphasized, while the likenesses passed unheeded. These differences were never more change in the food, but when I did serve the pudding to each in a shining new marked than on the Thanksgiving Day I have mentioned, when I could make no tin basin, which I had bought of a tin peddler, with rags that I had been saving through many a week. Johnny, in his delight, forgot to eat his breakfast, and spilled the milk all over his Sunday jacket in the effort to see his own face in the mirror of shining tin. Peter calmly asked what it cost, and where I got the money, and if I was sure we could afford it. And Tom only wanted his cup filled over and over, his desire for all the pudding he could get stimulated by the unexpected gift.

"I lived to see the day when these sons were all prosperous men, and I was rich enough to give their boys as they came along each a silver bowl and spoon for his dainty morning meal. But my own boys never forget their tin Thanksgiving cups.

The mother who so fears that her boy will cut himself that she never lets him have a knife, or so fears that he will get drowned that she never lets him go swimming or fishing, is to be pitied-and so is the boy. Let your boy understand that you think it right for him to have a jolly good time in a right way, and he'll be less apt to take it in a wrong way. "Work as hard as you can, play as hard as you can, pray as hard as you can," is the motto of the Boys' Club at the Protestant Episcopal Pro-Cathedral, New York,

SWEETHEART

O sweetheart, let us have a merry time;

The birds, they are happy-why not we?

The bells in the steeple are a-chime,

And the brook, it runneth laughing to the sea.

To love and to labor, that is best,

Hope soareth aloft on happy wing;

Let us build like the little birds our nest,

God giveth us each other-let us sing!-M. L. A.

A HAPPY GIRLHOOD

Elizabeth Fry, who became, as is well known, a great worker among the poor, the lowly, the outcast, and the imprisoned-so much so that she was called the " Angel of Newgate Prison "--had a merry youth. As the daughter of a rich gentleman, she went mun into distinguished and gay company. Her journal shows how, even in the whirl of fashionable society, and amid the pleasures conferred by wealth, culture and high position, she was, through very gratitude for her own blessings, being insensibly led toward her great life-work of alleviating the woes of others and adding to their joys.

May 21. I am seventeen to-day. Am I a happier or a better creature than I was this time twelvemonth? I know I am happier; I think I am better. I hope I shall be much better this day year than I am now. I hope to be quite an altered person, to have more knowledge, to have my mind in greater order; and my heart, too-that wants to be put in order as much, if not more, than any other part of me, it is in such a fly-away state; but I think if ever it were settled on one subject it would never, no, never, fly away any more; it would rest quietly and happily on the heart that was open to receive it.

July 7.-I have seen several things in myself and others I have never before remarked; but I have not tried to improve myself; I have given way to my passions and let them have command over me. I have known my faults and have not corrected them, and now I am determined I will once more try, with redoubled ardor, to overcome my wicked inclinations. I must not flirt; I must not be out of temper with the children; I must not contradict without a cause; I must not mump when my sisters are liked and I am not; I must not allow myself to be angry; I must not exaggerate, which I am inclined to; I must not give way to luxury; I must not be idle in mind; I must try to give way to every good feeling and overcome every bad. I will see what I can do; if I had but perseverance, I could do all that I wish; I will try. I have lately been too satirical, so as to hurt sometimes; remember, it is a fault to hurt others.

10th. Some poor people were here; I do not think I gave them what I did with a good heart. I am inclined to give away, but for a week past, owing to not having much money, I have been mean and extravagant. Shameful! Whilst I live may I be generous; it is my nature, and I will not overcome good a feeling. I am inclined to be extravagant and that leads to meanness, for those who will throw away a good deal are apt to mind giving a little.

11th.-Happy, happy I, to be so well! how good, how virtuous ought I to be! May what I have suffered be a lesson to me to feel for those who are ill, and alleviate their sorrows as far as lies in my power; let it teach me never to forget the blessings I enjoy. I ought never to be unhappy. Look back at this, last year; how ill I was, how miserable! yet I was supported through it. God will support through the suffering he inflicts. If I were devotional, I should fall on my knees and be most grateful for the blessings I enjoy;-a good father, one whom I dearly love, sisters formed after my own heart, friends whom I admire, and good health which gives a relish to all. Company to dinner; I must beware of being a flirt, it is an abominable character; I hope I shall never be one, and yet I fear I am one now a little. Be careful not to talk at random. Beware, and see how well I can get through this day, without one foolish action.

I LEANED OUT OF WINDOW

I leaned out of window; I smelt the white clover;
Dark, dark was the garden; I saw not the gate;

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Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one lover-
Hush, nightingale, hush! Oh, sweet nightingale, wait
Till I listen and hear

If a step draweth near,
For my love, he is late!

"The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer;
A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree;
The fall of the water comes sweeter, comes clearer.
To what art thou listening, and what dost thou see?
Let the star-clusters glow;

Let the sweet waters flow,
And cross quickly to me.

"You night-moths that hover where honey brims over
From sycamore blossoms, or settle, or sleep;
You glow-worms, shine out, and the pathway discover
To him that comes darkling along the rough steep.
Ah, my sailor, make haste,

For the time runs to waste,
And my love lieth deep-

"Too deep for swift-telling; and yet, my one lover,

I've conned thee an answer; it waits thee to-night."
By the sycamore passed he, and through the white clover,
Then all the sweet speech I had fashioned took flight;
But I'll love him more, more

Then e'er wife loved before,

Be the days dark or bright.-Jean Ingelow.

GIFTS OF THE HEART

Happy is the man who has that in his soul which acts upon the dejected as April airs upon violet roots. Gifts from the hand are silver and gold; but the heart gives that which neither silver nor gold can buy. To be full of goodness, full of cheerfulness, full of sympathy, full of helpful hope, causes a man to carry blessings of which he is himself as unconscious as a lamp of its own shining. Such a one moves on human life as stars move on dark seas to bewildered mariners; as the sun wheels, bringing all the seasons with him from the south.-Beecher.