No. 271. A glorious Boy.—The playmates of a small boy were trying to persuade him to take a handful or two of cool, ripe cherries, from a tree overhanging the stone-wall, where they were sitting together in the hot sunshine.
"What are you afeard of?" said the largest, "for if your father should find it out, he is so kind, he wouldn't punish you."
"That's the very reason why I wouldn't touch 'em," said the dear little fellow, in reply.
No. 272. Physics and Metaphysics.—An amiable professor, in France, was laboring to explain that theory, according to which the body is entirely renewed every six years, giving for illustration the experiment made with a pig, by feeding it on madder till its bones were colored through and through, and other cases. "And so, mam'selle," said he, addressing a pretty little blonde with a roguish face, "in six years you will be no longer Mademoiselle F——."
"I hope so," murmured Mam'selle F., casting down her eyes, and peering up at him through her long lashes. Evidently she had somewhat misunderstood her teacher.
No. 273. Too good to be true.—A little boy having broken his rocking-horse the very day it was brought home, his mother began scolding him. "Why, mamma," said he, with a mischievous giggle, as if he understood the joke, and meant it, "What's the use of a horse afore he's broke?"
No. 274. True, beyond all question.—Said somebody to a little moppet, as she sat on the door-step playing with her kitten and her doll, "Which do you love best, darling, your kitten or your doll?"
After looking serious for a minute or two, she leaned over and whispered, "I love Kitty best, but please don't tell Dolly."
No. 275. A slight Misapprehension.—Three little negroes were lately baptized by our friend, Mr. C., of the new Protestant Cathedral. After the ceremony was over, one of them whispered to its mother, "You don't mind it, mamma, do you, 'cause he baptized us in his night-gown?"
No. 276. A Natural Curiosity.—A dear little six-year-old was going by a church with her father. "What house is that?" asked the child. "That is the Dutch Church," said papa; "people go there to be good, so that, after a while, they may be angels." "Hi! then there'll be Dutch angels, papa!"