Perhaps you desire to know how the man gets his balloon down, when he has risen in it up to the clouds. I will tell you; he lets out a little of the gas, and down he comes. He must be careful to let out only a little at a time, so as to come down gradually; if he lets out too much, he will come down with a terrible thump. * * * * * SLEEPY HARRY. “I do not like to go to bed,” Sleepy little Harry said; “Go, naughty Betty, go away, I will not come at all, I say!” The little birds are better taught, They go to roosting when they ought; And all the ducks and fowls, you know They went to bed an hour ago. The little beggar in the street, Who wanders with his naked feet, And has not where to lay his head, Oh, he’d be glad to go to bed. MAMA AND BABY. What a little thing am I! Hardly higher than the table; I can eat, and play, and cry, But to work I am not able. Nothing in the world, I know, But mama will try and show me: Sweet mama, I love her so, She’s so very kind to me. And she sets me on her knee, Very often, for some kisses: Oh! how good I’ll try to be, For such a dear mama as this is. [Illustration] The Harrow. This is a picture of a man with a harrow. A harrow consists of several iron spikes fixed in a frame. When this is dragged over the ground, the spikes break the earth in pieces, and thus fit it to receive the seed. If the seed be sown, then the harrow is used to cover it up in the earth. Perhaps my little readers do not care to hear about the harrow, but how can they have bread and butter without it? We cannot have bread without wheat to make it of; and we cannot have wheat, unless the ground be duly ploughed and harrowed. So my young readers will see that the harrow is a good friend of theirs, however little they care about it. Handsome is that handsome does. _John._ Mama, I want something to look at; what can I have? _Mother._ Why, my dear, cannot you find something in the room to look at――some pretty story-book, or amusing puzzle? _J._ No, mama, I don’t want to read, or be puzzled either; and I have looked at the shells and fossils on the mantelpiece, and the gold fishes in the globe, and counted the window-panes and the flowers on the carpet twenty times, and I’ve been looking into the looking-glass for the last half hour. _M._ Into the looking-glass, John! for what purpose? _J._ That I might know how handsome I am, mama. _M._ Why, do you really think that you are handsome? _J._ Yes, mama; do not you? _M._ Only sometimes. _J._ Why――only sometimes, mama? _M._ Because, John, you are only handsome when you are good; when you are naughty, you are a very ugly little fellow!