William opened a portfolio, and, taking out some pictures, said, "What do you think of these?" "Ah! here is something like a horse," replied his friend, looking at one of the drawings. "You will never do any thing like this, Willy." William smiled, but said nothing; though it was his own drawing that his friend was praising. Well, by bravely keeping at it, William at last began to make pictures worth looking at. While yet a boy, he sent in a painting to the Society of Arts, for which he received a present of a silver palette. He rose to be Sir William Ross, miniature painter to Queen Victoria. Don't be discouraged, my young friends, by failing in your first attempts. Learn to persevere. Keep at it. That's the Way. UNCLE CHARLES. [Illustration] THE PRISONER. EVA is six years old, and has deep-blue eyes. Ernest is almost four years old, and has very black eyes. Jessie will be two years old next week, and has large brown eyes. Their papa, who has been kept at home by illness for a week, thinks that he is just getting acquainted with them, and never knew before that he had three such fine children. He noticed, the other day, that every hour, almost, they would run into the sitting-room with cake or sugar or bread-and-butter, scattering crumbs all over the carpet, and keeping their mamma busy much of the time in sweeping up. So he thought he would call a council to consider the matter, and see what could be done about it. Papa, robed in his dressing-gown, took the chair; Eva was placed in front; Ernest stood on the right hand, and Jessie on the left. The chairman then told the children how much work they made mamma, and proposed a rule,--that no more food should be brought into the sitting-room. All who were in favor of such a rule were requested to vote for it by raising their hands. Each of the children raised a hand; and fat little Jessie raised both of hers as high as she could. So the vote was passed. Then papa said that a rule was good for nothing unless there was a penalty with it. So he made Eva judge, and asked her what the punishment should be for breaking the rule. "I think," said she, "the first one that _spoils_ the rule should be shut up in jail five minutes." This was thought to be about the right thing: so the bedroom was selected for a jail, and Ernest was made jailer. Eva wanted to know, since she was judge, and Ernest was jailer, what Jessie could be. Her papa said that Jessie would probably be the first prisoner. As to Ernest, he went at once and told his mamma that he was "no more a little boy, but a jailer-man."