But there were no squashes there. And he inquired again where they were; but no one knew. He called to the boys, who were playing horse on the sidewalk, to ask if they knew any thing of the squashes. Oh, yes! and they ran to the barn, he following; and where do you suppose the squashes were? In the pig-pen—every one of them!
They had toiled and tugged, and carried every squash—and many of them were large—out there, and fed them to the pigs.
The mischief done, who could scold those two bright, hard-working little men? I think their papa had to console himself with thinking if only they would work as well at something useful when they were grown up, he could forgive their rather wasteful business when they were little.
C. D. B.
CHARLIE'S COMPOSITION.
Charlie was ten years old, and his teacher thought he should begin to write compositions. So she gave him a list of words, and told him to write a letter or story, and put them all in.
The words were these: Begun, Write, Boy, Hook, Two, Black, Said, Basket, Knife, Chair, Eyes, Ground.
Charlie went home; and, before he went out to play in the afternoon, his mother said, "You had better work a while on your composition."