The queen beetle is about one inch and a quarter in length, and carries by her side, just about her waist, two brilliant lamps, which she lights up at pleasure, with the solar phosphorus furnished her by nature. These little lamps do not flash and glimmer like those of the fire-fly, but give as steady a light as that produced by a gas-burner, exhibiting two perfect spheres, as large as a minute pearl. These are so powerful that they will afford a person light enough to read print by them. On carrying this insect into a dark closet in the daytime, no light is emitted at first, but she quickly illuminates her lamps, and immediately extinguishes them, on being brought again into the light. But language cannot sufficiently express the beauty and sublimity of these lucid orbs in miniature, with which nature has endowed the queen of the insect kingdom. * * * * * A mind occupied becomes fortified against the ills of life and is braced for any emergency. Children amused by reading and study, are of course considerate and more easily governed. LITTLE LEAVES FOR LITTLE READERS. [Illustration] The School-Ma’am. In one of his little books, Peter Parley has told us how Aunt Delight taught him his letters; and I believe that I have given some account of the early lessons that I, Robert Merry, received from Miss Sally St. John. In old times, children were generally taught their a-b-c, by some good old woman, who was called the “School-ma’am.” Above is a picture of one of these dames, giving a first lesson to a child. How hard the little fellow tries to say his letters! A man laying stone wall, does not make a greater effort. I have told my readers of some of the pranks of the friend and playmate of my early days, Bill Keeler; but there is one which I have not yet told. It was as follows:―― You should know that Sally St. John, the school-ma’am, having no husband, made a great pet of her cat. This was named Nip, and, strange to say, he used regularly to go with her to school. Many a child had a “box with five nails in it,” for playing some trick upon Nip, but this was especially the case with Bill. He was always getting into some trouble on account of the cat. Now Bill had a great love for gunpowder; and of all things, he delighted in what is called a _witch-quill_. This is made of a quill, filled with layers of wet and dry powder: when set on fire, the quill goes jumping about, hither and thither, all the time spouting forth a stream of fire. On one occasion he carried one of these to school, and when Aunt Sally’s back was turned, he gave it a toss into the fire. In an instant the quill was lighted, and, starting from the fire-place, darted directly under the school mistress’s chair. Pop――fizz! pop――fizz! it went.