But none can reach perfection here;
    Like all beneath the sun,
  She, too, could err, and her career
    Was not a faultless one.

  She only did, here let me tell,
    Each day the best she could;
  Would young folks all but do as well,
    The world might soon grow good.

  But all is past!  Ah! cold that face! 
    That bosom throbs no more! 
  Oh! must another take her place,
    And we our loss deplore?

  Nay, nay, we could not bear the pain
    Of losing one so true;—­
  Old Nancy Chime shall tick again,
    And be as good as new.

HOW HE CAUGHT HIM.

[Illustration:  HANS GETS A FIRST-RATE BITE.]

[Illustration:  THEN HE CATCHES A FISH AND PULLS HIM OUT.]

[Illustration:  HANS FINDS IT HARDER TO HOLD THE FISH THAN TO CATCH HIM.]

[Illustration:  THEN HANS BEGINS TO WONDER WHETHER HE OR THE FISH IS CAUGHT.]

[Illustration:  THE FISH NOW CATCHES HANS AND PULLS HIM IN.]

[Illustration:  HANS AND THE FISH AGREE TO STOP CATCHING EACH OTHER.]

WHO PUT OUT THE TEA-PARTY?

BY ELLEN FRANCES TERRY.

One day, when I was a small girl, my little sister Katy and I found in the yard a dry-goods box, in which the new carpets had been sent home.  As usual, we ran to where grandma sat knitting and nodding: 

“Oh, grandma, mayn’t we have it?” cried I.

“Yet hab it, dranma?” echoed Katy.

“You know we never had a baby-house.”

“No, nebber had no baby-’ouse.”

“Oh, say yes!”

“’Ay ’et!”

“Do, do!”

“Pede do!”

Then, before she knew what she was to do, or say, or what she never had done, or said, we coaxed her to the back door and pointed to our treasure.  She couldn’t refuse us, and the box was given to us.

John made us a card-board chimney, and cut a square window in either end, for, of course, we set it on its feet, turning its back to the lane against whose fence it stood, looking into the yard.  Grandma gave us red curtains for the windows, and a big striped apron, which hung across the front and did for a door.  We had to have a door, for, when we took tea, the chickens came, without invitation, peeping inside, looking for crumbs.  And, seeing what looked like a party, down flew, with a whir and rustle, a flock of doves, saying, “Coo-oo! how do-oo-do!” and prinking themselves in our very faces.  Yes, we really had too many of these surprise-parties; for, another time, it was a wasp that came to tea, and flew from me to Katy, and from Katy to me, till we flew, too, to hide our heads in grandma’s lap.  Then she gave us the apron, which was very grand, though the blue stripes were walking into the red ones, and there were a good many little holes which let small arrows of light fly out.  That was when we lighted the chandelier, and they (the holes and the arrows) were the very things to let people know what grand doings there were inside.