“Well, I’m glad of that,” returned the lady; “for I shouldn’t like to be taken with my mouth shut.”

So they went to work.

Richard looked at the lady very sharp, particularly with his right eye,—­you can see him; and Bob took a penny out of his pocket and held it in front of him as if it were an eye-glass; and Frank put his right leg out, and bent forward and said every now and then, “To a T!” “Charming!” “Nature improved!” and other such flatteries.

It was very well to say all this; but the truth must be told:  when Richard had painted the lady’s head and neck, he had no more room on the canvas; and what was done was so ugly, that the subject threw her bouquet at it.  Then Richard sent it back again, at which she boxed his ears.

“It certainly is like nothing in the world,” said Bob, putting his hands before his eyes as he looked at the smudges.

“Of course not,” retorted Richard; “it’s in the high school of art, and is not therefore meant to be natural!”

“Oh! that alters the case,” said Frank.  After a bit they began to throw the things about, and a terrible mess and rout they made.

When they were quite tired, Richard said, “Now I’ll show you all my toys!” and he was about to go out of the studio to fetch them,—­

“Stay where you are!” cried his father, slyly entering.  “You have been spoiling my things, and romping where you have no business; I must set you a task as a punishment, and your friends must go home at once.”

All the boys turned red enough without being painted; and Richard’s father said, quite sternly, “Next time, before you, children, play with, and destroy property, just ask yourselves how you would like your playthings meddled with and broken?”

[Illustration:  The Busy Bees]

Oh!  Boys and Girls can useful prove, If they will only try; And smile and work in some slight groove, As well as play or cry.

THE BUSY BEES.

Little Bob he fetched a board,
  And then began to saw,
And Mary Jane said she’d afford
  Him help to do much more,
    While he used his—­saw! saw! saw!

Young Dick he held his mallet high,
  And struck the wedge quite bold,
Until it made the wood quick fly
  Like feathers with no hold,
    Blown by the wind quite—­cold! cold! cold!

And John and James sawed up and down,
  John sawed up; James sawed low;
The birds they flew all o’er the town
  To tell the folks these things were so,
      As if they did—­know! know! know!

They made some boxes, tops, and hoops,
  They fashioned bowls and chairs,
They sold a thousand million scoops,
  And seven hundred stairs;
      And this Bob—­declares! declares! declares!

Eleven hundred sticks they cut,
  And all of them good size;
With a five mile long water-butt,
  “In which to float,” Tom cries,
    And “Time,” they said—­“flies! flies! flies!”