“Yes; and he swam down the stream after her, and brought her safe to land. She was soon quite well; and the dog and she are now such great friends, it is quite droll to see them.” “I must run away now,” said Tom, “for it is my school-time. When I am a man I hope I shall have such a dog of my own.” CHARLES ROSS AND THE HAWK. What does make little Charles Ross run so fast across that long field? he looks as though he had a great deal to tell. Yes, see, there is his aunt Lucy, not far off; he will soon catch her, I think. There, now he has got up to her; but he is so out of breath he cannot speak just yet. Aunt Lucy says something to him, let us go near and hear what it is. “My dear boy, you should not run so fast this hot day. Pray where have you been all this time, and what have you seen?” [Illustration: “I aimed so well that the cap struck him, and made him drop his prey.”] “Oh, aunt!” says Charles, “as soon as I came from school, I went to the farmyard to feed my fowls; and it was very well I did, for what should I see but a cruel hawk pounce down in the midst of my poor chicks: the old hen flew at him, and pecked him well with her beak, and shook her wings at him, but he was too bold to care for that; so I gave a loud shout, and flung my cap at him, just as he flew off with the white chick in his claws. I aimed so well, that the cap struck him, and made him drop his prey: I then ran to it, but the poor thing was quite dead, and its nice white down was all dyed with blood. Do you know, dear aunt, I felt so vexed that the tears came into my eyes; but then I thought I must not be angry with the hawk, for God made it, and had taught it what sort of food to take home to its young ones.” Now see how pleased aunt Lucy looks, and how she kisses Charles, and says, “I am very glad to hear you speak so, my own dear boy, and to see that you thought of what I told you a day or two ago, that the wise and good God has made all things well, and that He cannot err in any of His works.” GEORGE AND ROSE’S LONG WALK. “Come,” said George King, a boy of five years old, to his sister Rose, “come and play on the grass-plat with me. I will lend you my new ball.” “Oh, yes,” said Rose, as she put down her doll, “that I will.” In a short time they were tired of play; and Rose said to George, “Let us go and see aunt Jane, we both know the way quite well.” “It is such a long walk,” said George, “and I think there will not be time before it grows dark.” “Oh, yes there will;” said Rose, “and I dare say aunt Jane will send us home in the chaise.” So she took George’s hand, and led him into the lane, for though she was not so old as he was, she often made him do as she pleased. Now the way was long, and the sun was low in the sky, but George and Rose thought no more of that. They went on over two or three fields, till they came to a high gate.