THE CONSEQUENCES OF BEING BEHINDHAND.

"The following incident, which I witnessed on a late journey, illustrates an important principle, and I will relate it.

When our steamboat started from the wharf, all our passengers had not come. After we had proceeded a few yards, there appeared among the crowd on the wharf, a man with his trunk under his arm,—out of breath,—and with a most disappointed and disconsolate air. The Captain determined to stop for him, but stopping an immense steamboat, moving swiftly through the water, is not to be done in a moment. So we took a grand sweep, wheeling majestically around an English ship, which was at anchor in the harbor. As we came towards the wharf again, we saw the man in a small boat, coming off from it. As the steamboat swept round, they barely succeeded in catching a rope from the stern, and then immediately the steam engine began its work again, and we pressed forward,—the little boat following us so swiftly, that the water around her was all in a foam.

They pulled upon the rope attached to the little boat, until they drew it alongside. They then let down a rope with a hook in the end of it, from an iron crane, which projected over the side of the steamboat, and hooked it into a staple in the front of the small boat. "Hoist away;" said the Captain. The sailors hoisted, and the front part of the little boat began to rise, the stern still ploughing and foaming through the water, and the man still in it, with his trunk under his arm. They "hoisted away," until I began to think that the poor man would actually tumble out behind. He clung to the seat, and looked as though he was saying to himself, "I will take care how I am tardy the next time." However, after awhile, they hoisted up the stern of the boat, and he got safely on board.

Moral. Though coming to school a few minutes earlier or later, may not in itself be a matter of much consequence, yet the habit of being five minutes too late, if once formed, will, in actual life, be a source of great inconvenience, and sometimes of lasting injury."

NEW SCHOLARS.

"There is, at ——, a young ladies' school, taught by Mr.——.

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But with all these excellences, there is one fault, which I considered a great one, and which does not comport with the general character of the school for kindness and good feeling. It is the little effort made by the scholars to become acquainted with the new ones who enter. Whoever goes there, must push herself forward, or she will never feel at home. The young ladies seem to forget, that the new comer must feel rather unpleasantly, in the midst of a hundred persons, to whom she is wholly a stranger, and with no one to speak to. Two or three will stand together, and instead of deciding upon some plan, by which the individual may be made to feel at ease, something like the following conversation takes place.

Miss X. How do you like the looks of Miss A., who entered school to-day?