MATHILDE WEYER.

P.S.—­I have a cat by the name of Pussy Hiawatha.

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  Covington, Ohio.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS:  Would you like to know how I came to get you?  I worked for you.  My brother made a bank for me out of a cigar-box, and said if I put ten cents into it every week, I could begin taking you in November.  That was in March.  Sometimes, I could not get the ten cents, but I made it up the next week, and more, too, if I could; and before July, I had more than enough to pay for you.  After that, I saved nearly enough to buy me a suit of clothes.  I am working for you for another year.  My age is twelve.—­From your constant reader,

W.H.  PERRY.

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The following is sent to us from Josie C.H., aged eleven years, as her own composition: 

SOME THINGS WHICH WE EXPECT IN YEARS TO COME.

Some boys, when they go to school, expect to learn.  When they are a little older, they expect to go to college; and then, to learn trades and professions, and to become men.  The farmer, when he plants his seed in the spring, expects a harvest.  The merchant, when he buys his goods, expects to sell them at a profit.  The student expects to become a lawyer, minister, etc.  All boys expect to become men.  We often expect things that never happen, but what we expect we cannot always get; yet we can try for them, which is a good rule to go by.

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THE TRUE STORY OF “MARY’S LITTLE LAMB.”

  Saratoga Springs, N.Y.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS:  I want to tell you what I read lately in a newspaper about Mary and her lamb.  Mary herself is now a delightful old lady of threescore and ten, and this is her story: 

“I was nine years old, and we lived on a farm.  I used to go out to the barn every morning with father, to see the cows and sheep.  One cold day, we found that during the night twin lambs had been born.  You know that sheep will often disown one of twins, and this morning one poor little lamb was pushed out of the pen into the yard.  It was almost starved, and almost frozen, and father told me I might have it if I could keep it alive.  So I took it into the house, wrapped it in a blanket, and fed it on peppermint and milk all day.  When night came, I could not bear to leave it, for fear it would die.  So mother made me up a little bed on the settle, and I nursed the poor little thing all night, feeding it with a spoon, and by morning it could stand.  After this, we brought it up by hand, until it learned to love me very much, and would stay with me wherever I went, unless it was tied.  I used, before going to school in the morning, to see that the lamb was all right, and securely fastened for the day.