6.66 But," ," said Arthur, "I did not see any strange cock and hen when I found you holding Jack."

""No," replied grandpapa, "because they had both run away to hide themselves, poor things! They are somewhere about-I dare say under the rose bushes." "Oh dear! not in my cried Arthur, jumping up. up. I must go and see.'

new flower-beds, I hope!" "My seeds are fast coming And away went Arthur in

the midst of our breakfast, not stopping to hear the sad end of the story.'

Here both Johnnie and May caught hold of their mamma's hand, exclaiming, 'Oh! what is it, mamma? Were the two Cochin-Chinas lost?'

'No, May, not lost-something worse.'

'Worse!' cried both the children. 'Do, mamma, go

on.'

'For a few minutes,' continued the mamma, after Arthur had left the room, nobody spoke a word. I felt ashamed and sorry for Jack's behaviour. I knew that he was now grown a strong, powerful bird, but I never imagined he would show such a passionate temper as to try to kill one of his own companions.

"I tell you what," grandpapa said, finishing his last cup of coffee, and pushing back the plates on the table, "if Mr Jack means to give himself these vicious airs, Í shall have him sold."

"Oh! papa, papa!" I exclaimed, running to your grandpapa, and throwing my arms round his neck, "please don't. I am sure Jack will never do so any more. It was only because this great, tall Cochin was quite strange and new to him. Please, papa, oh, don't sell poor, poor, dear Jack! Perhaps, if you did, they might kill him!"—and I began to cry.'

Here Tiny gently wiped away a tear from her eyes with the corner of her pinafore, and pressed herself closer to her mamma.

'Poor mamma!' she said, 'how sorry you must have been-and to cry, too.'

'I didn't know mamma ever cried,' said Johnnie; that's just like Tiny, or even May, sometimes.'

'But, Johnnie, you know mamma was not so old as she is now; she was only a very little girl. Weren't you, mamma, dear?'

'Not so very little, May, for I was ten years old.'

'But you were sorry,' said Tiny, and so you cried for that. Mamma was not naughty when she cried;' and Tiny turned to Johnnie, as if that question were quite settled.

'To be sure not,' said May. And now, mamma, what did grandpapa say when you cried and begged that Jack might not be sold?'

'Well, May, grandpapa was very kind, and promised me that Jack should have a fair trial, but said that for a few days at least, if not a week, he must live by himself in the back kitchen, until his wounds were healed; for the Cochin-China cock had given Jack as many hard blows as Jack had given him.

'Just when grandpapa had said this, Arthur came running back out of breath. He had found the new cock and hen, and had taken them into the hen-house and shut the door.

"He is a fine bird, this new fighting-cock," said he; "but his wife is not to be compared with Snowball, nor yet with Redcap. Do come and see them, May.”

'So we went together to the yard, and there sat the two new-comers in a corner of the hen-house by themselves, looking sad and dull. We did not go very near them, for fear of frightening them, but we scattered some barley-meal before them, and they soon began to move about and to eat; and then I could see for the first time how different they were to any fowls we had ever had before. We agreed to call the cock Lobster, because he was of a kind of red all over; and his wife we called Daisy, because she had yellow and white spots on her back, which reminded us of the flower of the daisy. They were not pretty; their legs were so very long, and

their tails so short and dumpy-such a contrast to our pretty Snowball and Redcap. But they were gentle and inoffensive, and Arthur and I resolved to like them, and take care of them with the rest.

(To be continued.)

WHAT THE MINUTES SAY.

We are but minutes-little things—
Each one furnished with sixty wings,
With which we fly on our unseen track,
And not a minute ever comes back.

We are but minutes; each one bears
A little burden of joys and cares ;
Take patiently the minutes of pain,
The worst of minutes cannot remain.

We are but minutes; when we bring
A few of the drops from pleasure's spring,
Taste their sweetness while yet you may,
It takes but a minute to fly away.

We are but minutes—use us well,

For how we are used we must one day tell ;
Who uses minutes has hours to use,

Who loses minutes whole years must lose.

138

Wild Flowers for Children.

WILD FLOWERS FOR CHILDREN.

NO. IX.-HELLEBORUS NIGER.

OW cold it is to-day, Robert; I don't think I shall venture out.'

'Oh! do, Grace, it is really very pleasant weather, and everything looks so bright and glistening.'

'No, I don't like a white world; give me green leaves and pretty flowers.'

'But, Grace, I assure you, the trees look better now than in summer, for the branches are laden with such dazzling crystals, you might fancy yourself in fairy-land.' 'I am going to the garden, Grace,' said her mother, ' and, if you will accompany me, I think we might still

find a flower there.'

'Oh! mamma, you are surely not in earnest ;-a flower at Christmas-time, when the ground is almost covered with snow!'

'Well, come and see.'

Grace prepared to brave the elements, and was soon in the garden with her mother and brother; and there, in a sheltered corner, their eyes were attracted by a cluster of dark shining leaves, in the centre of which nestled a large white flower, surrounded by several buds.

'Oh! mamma,' exclaimed Grace, 'I am so glad we have got a flower to talk about. I had no idea any plant could blow in December.'

'I thought every one knew the Christmas rose,' said Robert. I suppose it is because Grace is so much afraid of the cold that she never saw it before. Has it any

other name, mamma ?'

'Yes, botanists call it "Helleborus niger."' 'What does that mean?'