“He can offer thanks or call upon some other boy to do so, or sing a blessing.” [Illustration: AN ALASKA CHILD.] Of course you ought to know just how the grandmothers of these bright Alaska children look. Our picture will enable you to judge somewhat of their appearance. L. [Illustration: ALASKAN WOMEN.] BABY’S CORNER. POOR TABBY. TABBY thought she was a very smart cat, but there were some rats living in the barn who knew almost as much as Tabby did herself. [Illustration: THE GRAY RAT TANTALIZES TABBY.] One morning Tabby went to the barn. She had tried for days to catch a rat, but just as she got her paw out to strike one off he scampered. “To-day I shall get the old gray rat, see if I don’t,” said Tabby to herself as she walked down the path. She stepped softly into the door. But what was this new shining thing she saw? Why, Farmer Jones had put a big trap there to catch the rats. Now Tabby had never seen a trap, and she said to herself: “Why, here is a pretty little house! It must be for me; I will walk right in. How nice!” So she stepped in. Snap! went the door, shut! and there poor Puss was in prison. She tried to get out, but she could not. She cried, but nobody came to let her out. While she sat there feeling sad, two rats came and looked at her. The old gray one, as he stood on his hind legs, said: “Aha! I see; I see! Anybody who goes into that door does not come out. I shall never go in.” By and by Tommy Jones missed his pussy and went to the barn to look for her. Oh! was not Tabby glad to see him coming? MRS. C. M. LIVINGSTON. DAVIE’S WITNESSES. IT was Fourth of July morning, and Davie Carson had been up since a good while before the sun, not firing crackers and torpedoes, nor watching the firing of the great cannon, but doing the chores. He was in tremendous haste. An entire holiday was a thing he did not have twice in a year. A hard-working boy was Davie, with not only his own bread to earn, but with a great longing in his heart to help earn the bread of two sisters and a brother younger than himself. He lived in a small village where there was little chance of a boy of his age earning much. The best that he had been able to do, so far, was to seize odd jobs as they happened along; or rather as he hunted them out. Not very pleasant jobs, all of them. Davie liked horses, and was glad of a chance to lead Dr. Bristol’s to water; but to like to clean out their stalls was another thing. But he knew how to do this work, and did it well, and had put on his great work apron this morning for the purpose of taking that job next.