good lady saw what was on the paper, in lines of red and black ink, she uttered a scream of surprise and joy. </p> <p> &ldquo;Bless me!&rdquo; cried she. &ldquo;It is a picture of little Sally!&rdquo; </p> <p> And then she threw her arms round our friend Benjamin, and kissed him so tenderly that he never afterwards was afraid to show his performances to his mother. </p> <p> As Ben grew older, he was observed to take vast delight in looking at the lines and forms of nature. For instance, he was greatly pleased with the blue violets of spring, the wild roses of summer, and the scarlet cardinal-flowers of early autumn. In the decline of the year, when the woods were variegated with all the colors of the rainbow, Ben seemed to desire nothing better than to gaze at them from morn till night. The purple and golden clouds of sunset were a joy to him. And he was continually endeavoring to draw the figures of trees, men, mountains, houses, cattle, geese, ducks, and turkeys, with a piece of chalk, on barn doors or on the floor. </p> <p> In these old times the Mohawk Indians were still numerous in Pennsylvania. Every year a party of them used to pay a visit to Springfield, because the wigwams of their ancestors had formerly stood there. These wild men grew fond of little Ben, and made him very happy by giving him some of the red and yellow paint with which they were accustomed to adorn their faces. His mother, too, presented him with a piece of indigo. Thus he now had three colors,&mdash;red, blue, and yellow,&mdash;and could manufacture green by mixing the yellow with the blue. Our friend Ben was overjoyed, and doubtless showed his gratitude to the Indians by taking their likenesses in the strange dresses which they wore, with feathers, tomahawks, and bows and arrows. </p> <p> But all this time the young artist had no paint-brushes; nor were there any to be bought, unless he had sent to Philadelphia on purpose. However, he was a very ingenious boy, aid resolved to manufacture paint-brushes for himself. With this design he laid hold upon&mdash;what do you think? Why, upon a respectable old black cat, who was sleeping quietly by the fireside. </p> <p> &ldquo;Puss,&rdquo; said little Ben to the cat, &ldquo;pray give me some of the fur from the tip of thy tail?&rdquo; </p> <p> Though he addressed the black cat so civilly, yet Ben was determined to have the fur whether she were willing or not. Puss, who had no great zeal for the fine arts, would have resisted if she could; but the boy was armed with his mother&rsquo;s scissors, and very dexterously clipped off fur enough to make a paint-brush. This was of so much use to him that be applied to