In the sun by the wall, with Lion close by,
With her book in her hand, little Ruth you may spy:
She is getting her lesson as fast as she can,
While the birds sing their song and the soft breezes fan.
See, that is her slate lying there on the ground:
She can make a square figure, and then make a round;
She can add up a sum, if it's not very big;
But she cannot yet draw me a cat or a pig.
But she tries to learn something, though little it be,
Each day of her life,—something useful, you see:
And in two or three years you will find she can spell,
Read, cipher, and write, and do it all well.
Ellen Simpson.
THE SNOW-COUNTRY.
"What a funny looking man!" cried Harry, running to me with his book open, to show me a picture. "Where does he live, aunty? and why does he wear such clothes?"
"He is an Esquimau, and lives in the snow-country, and his clothes are made of fur."
"Tell me about the snow-country, aunty."
"Up in the far north, near the north pole, it is winter all the time. There the snow is always on the ground; and instead of having, as we do, many days and nights, they have only one day and one night in all the year.
"You will wonder if the people sleep all through the long night, and if they do not get tired of the long day. No; for they go to bed and get up about as often as we do.
"During the night they have the stars to light them, and bright flashing colors in the sky, such as we call the 'Northern Lights.' When the sun comes back, he makes them a long visit; but never gets so high in the sky as he does with us, and never makes the weather warm."