Those who wish to furnish their little ones, just learning to read, with something fresh,—­something written with great care, and illustrated with skill, to which the ordinary ‘primers’ cannot and do not attain,—­should provide themselves with “The Nursery.”—­Detroit Post.

To those of our readers who have young children of their own, or who are called on to suggest quiet amusement for little patients, we can conscientiously commend “The Nursery,” a monthly juvenile magazine published in Boston, as the only periodical we have been able to find suited to the comprehension of children under ten or twelve years of age.—­N.Y.  Medical Gazette.

We wish we could express in fitting words our gratitude to the editor, publisher, and contributors of this exquisite little magazine.  It is intended for the small boys and girls who do not read very long words; but, if we mistake not, ‘children of a larger growth’ will be fascinated by its charming pictures and its dainty execution.—­N.Y.  Liberal Christian.

Few better services can be done than to banish namby-pamby trash from juvenile literature, and to substitute for it what is healthy and jolly and interesting.  This is the work that “The Nursery” performs for little children, and we therefore take pleasure in its deserved success.—­N.Y.  Independent.

[Illustration:  THAT MERRY CHRISTMAS.]

THAT MERRY CHRISTMAS.

[Illustration:  W]

What a glad noise there was that Christmas morning!  The children had got up early to look in their stockings.  John’s were not quite large enough to hold all of his gifts.  It is rather hard to crowd a sword, a gun, and a rocking-horse all into one stocking.

Mary had a fine new doll.  Harry had a box, and, on taking off the cover, up sprang a wise-looking little man, with a cap on his head.  Jessy had a doll, and a very pretty one it was too.  Tommy had a what-do-you-call-it.  Why did he look up the chimney?  I think it was to see if there was any sign of Santa Claus.

John mounted his horse, waved his sword, and held up his gun.  But very soon he began to get tired of them all.  The thought came into his head that he was more than eight years old.  “What do I want of these toys?” said he.  “Why was I so silly as to choose them, when aunt Susan would have given me a microscope?” And John laid down his sword and gun, feeling quite above such childish things.

When aunt Susan came, she saw that John did not seem as glad over his presents as the rest of the children did over theirs.  “What is the matter, John?” she asked.  “Why are you not playing with your toys?”

“Aunt Susan,” said John, “I wish I had taken the microscope.  Is it too late?”

“No, John.  I thought you might repent your choice, so I said to Mr. Grover, who keeps the toy-shop, ’I think I shall want to change the microscope:  can I do so?’ He said, ‘Yes.’  His shop will be open till eleven o’clock.  So run round and get the microscope, and tell him to send to-morrow and take back the toys.”