The older folks were as much interested in its trial trip as Bertie. The biggest tub was brought up, and half filled with water. The little boiler was also filled, and the lamp lighted; and we all waited patiently for the steam to start the little wheel. A stick was put across the tub, and a string fastened from its centre to the end of the steamer, to keep it from running against the side of the tub. The rudder was turned to guide the boat in a circle, and soon the steamer started. But it did not run easily. Could it be that it would prove a failure? Bertie's face began to put on a disappointed look. "Can't Uncle Nelson fix it?" said he. "Uncle Nelson can do most any thing." So Uncle Nelson took the delicate machinery apart, and found some particles of dirt, which prevented the piston from working smoothly. Then he cleaned and oiled it, put it together again, and once more it started. This time it was a complete success. How Bertie clapped his hands, as the steam hissed, and the boat went round and round, as if it were alive! It was half an hour before the water in the little boiler gave out. BERTIE'S MAMMA. A STORY ABOUT SQUIRRELS. [Illustration] FREDDIE is a bright little boy six years old. He goes with his papa and mamma every summer to stay a few months at a nice place in the country. In front of the house, near the fence, stands a large elm-tree, which is the home of many little squirrels. One day Freddie got his papa to build him a small shelf on the tree, about four feet from the ground, so that he could put nuts on it to feed the squirrels. At first the little fellows were very shy, and would not come near the shelf, but sat on the branches of the tree; and we fancied that we heard them saying to each other, "Do you think that little boy would hurt us, if we should run down, and take one of those nuts?" But, after a while, they came down, one by one, took the nuts, and went scampering up to the top branches; and in a few minutes down came the empty shells. They grew so tame before the summer was over, that if we put any thing on their shelf, and took a seat a few steps away, they would come down quite boldly, and get their breakfast. One day we put a small ear of sweet-corn on the shelf. Pretty soon a little squirrel came after it; but it was too heavy for him: so he sat down on the shelf, as though quite at home, ate off about half of the kernels of corn, to make his burden lighter, and, after trying many times, finally got it up to his hiding-place. Presently we saw all the squirrels running to that part of the tree, and we thought he might be having a squirrel-party in his best parlor.