_Mrs. Harley._ You are right: letters make syllables, one or more syllables make a word, words form a sentence, and a number of sentences compose not only the little story of Edward and James, but all the great books in the library. Now can you tell me how letters are divided? _Anne._ Not properly mamma, pray explain it to me. _Mrs. Harley._ I will my dear, and so we begin our FIRST LESSON. _Mrs. Harley._ Letters of which there are twenty six in our language, are divided into vowels and consonants. There are five proper vowels, a, e, i, o, and u. Y is generally a consonant at the beginning of words, and a vowel at the end of them. Repeat the vowels. _Anne._ a, e, i, o, u. Y, is sometimes a vowel, and sometimes a consonant. The other letters are all consonants, they are, b, c, d, f, g, h, j, k, l, m, n, p, q, r, s, t, v, w, x, y, z. _Mrs. Harley._ Very well, now you understand the letters, I will explain the other little marks you see in this book. They are called stops: there are six different ones, the comma, which is the shortest; the semicolon;--the colon:--the period.--the note of admiration!--which denotes wonder or surprise--and the note of interrogation? which shews that a question is asked. Repeat them to me. _Anne._ , ; : . ! ? _Mrs. Harley._ Quite right, you may now put away your book, and go to play. _CHAPTER II._ FRIDAY. _Mrs. Harley._ Here is another story for you Anne. _Anne._ Thank you, dear mamma, let me begin it directly. _The Naughty Girl Reformed._ There was once a little girl who had been so much indulged in her infancy, that by the time she arrived at her sixth year, every one disliked her. She was proud and ill-tempered, she wanted whatever she saw, and when any thing was refused her, she immediately began crying and teazing her mamma for it, who being at last quite tired of her importunity, generally gave up the point, and Fanny obtained what she wished for. Now, though the mamma certainly intended to be very kind to her child, yet I think she did wrong in this respect, because children should never have what they cry for. Fanny's ill-temper increased with her years, she quarrelled with all the children who used to play with her, till at length she was quite shunned, and none of her little friends took any notice of her.