Some time ago I heard of a gentleman who promised his little son that he should be present at the building of a stone wall, while the boy was absent the wall was built. Coming home he was greatly disappointed. "Papa you promised I should see it." "So I did my child." And the father ordered the wall to be torn down and rebuilt. Being expostulated with regarding the expense and time which he could ill afford, he replied: "I had rather spend many times the amount than have my son feel that I would be knowingly false to my word, or that it mattered little if a promise was broken." Though truth and faithfulness might have been taught and the wall remained, because all accidents of life are not under our control, no one can doubt the impression made upon that boy's mind. A mother speaking to me about two of her children said that they tell her most wonderful stories of school life and play time. She hears them quietly and says: "That is very interesting; now, how much did you see and hear, and how much do you think you saw and heard." They stop, think, and sift out the actual from the imaginative, sometimes correcting each other. One day the little boy said: "I really thought, Mamma, it was all so, but I guess only this part was." Much license is commonly allowed in order to tell a "good story," and many a child thus unconsciously gains a light conception of the value of truth, or they think their elders are privileged to use prevarications. I will give an illustration of this. One day a group of ladies seated on the porch of a hotel were entertaining each other, among them was one notorious for her habit of exaggeration. We were all listening to one of this lady's "good stories" when her eldest little girl, a child of seven, came towards us, leading her small sister of four. Going up to her mother the child said in a most serious tone of voice: "Mamma, Elsie told a lie. You said it was naughty for little girls to tell lies; they must wait until they are big ladies; musn't they?" The laugh that followed was joined in by the mother, who seemed quite unconscious of the reproof contained in the innocent speech of her little child. Another point to which I would call your attention is showing partiality; sometimes severely reproving a fault in one child, which you would pass over in a favorite. Children feel this keenly while childhood lasts, and sometimes resent it when they grow up. I have here a little piece which I am sure will appeal to you. The lady who wrote it evidently understands child-nature. SOLILOQUY BY MISS ETHEL M. KELLY. Now I lay me down to sleep-- Don't want to sleep; I want to think, I didn't mean to spill that ink; I only meant to softly creep Under the desk and be a bear-- 'Taint 'bout the spanking that I care.