At length, as she was passing near the place where the youngest was concealed, she heard a weak voice say, "Dear mother, I'm in the clock-case." She instantly opened it, and there was the kid, who related the misfortune that had befallen them through the wolf, and the dreadful fate of her brothers and sisters. The anger and sorrow of the old goat can scarcely be described; but at length she became calmer, and taking her kid with her, resolved to seek her enemy. When she arrived at the meadow, she discovered him under the tree, snoring so loudly that the twigs trembled. She examined him on all sides, and saw that something was moving and jumping inside him. "Can it be possible," said she, "that my poor children whom the monster has swallowed for his supper, are still alive?" Full of hope, she sent her kid quickly home for scissors, needle and thread, and upon her return ripped the wolf up; scarcely had she commenced, than a kid's head appeared, and when she had finished, all six sprang joyfully out, without having suffered the least harm, for the wolf had swallowed them whole. The mother caressed them and jumped for joy, then said, "Now go and fetch me some large paving stones, that I may fill up the wicked creature while he is yet asleep." The kids obeyed and dragged plenty of large stones to the place, which the mother put inside the wolf; she then sewed him up, so quickly, that he neither stirred nor found out what she had done. At length the wolf awoke, raised himself on his legs, and as the stones made him feel thirsty, he went towards the spring to quench it. But when he began to move, the stones moved likewise, and rattled loudly. Then he said, "What can it be that rattles about inside me, and feels so heavy? I thought I had eaten kids, but I feel as if they were paving-stones." He then came to the spring, and stooped down to drink, but the weight of the stones carried him in, for the bank was sloping, and he sank to the bottom and perished miserably. When the kids saw this, they danced and sprang about in great joy, crying out, "The wolf is drowned! The wolf is dead! We have nothing more to fear--the wolf is dead!" * * * * * There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night; And grief may bide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.-- BRYANT. [Illustration] BIRDIE AND BABY. ALFRED TENNYSON. What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother let me fly away. Birdie rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away. What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day? Baby says, like little birdie, Let me rise and fly away. Baby, sleep a little longer, Till the little limbs are stronger. If she sleeps a little longer, Baby, too, shall fly away. THE INFLUENCE OF BOOKS.