"Well, Murphy & Flynn, I will employ you to do my shovelling to-day, and I will give you fifty cents for the job; but I am very particular. You must not leave a bit of snow anywhere about the steps or sidewalk." "All right, sir," said the boys; and they went to work, while Mr. Prim went back to his newspaper. He had not been reading many minutes, when a loud shout in front of the house led him to look out of the window. The picture shows what he saw. There were the two boys, each mounted on one of the stone lions at the head of the steps, and shouting at the top of his lungs in the excitement of an imaginary race. Mr. Prim was first astonished, then angry, then amused, at this performance. He opened the window, and called out sharply, "Look here, boys! do you call that work, or play?" The boys jumped down, and began to ply their broom and shovel with great vigor. But Murphy looked up roguishly, and said, "We were just polishing off the lions, sir." "Yes," said Mr. Prim, "and a paroxysm of fun got the better of you. Well, it's excusable on New Year's Day. But, if the firm of Murphy & Flynn expect to succeed in business, they must not mix so much play with their work." And Mr. Prim shut the window. "I say, Mike," said Tom, "what was it the old man said had got the better of us?" "That's more than I can tell," said Mike. "I can't remember such hard words. But I know what he meant, and I guess he was about right." UNCLE SAM. [Illustration] BUMBLE-BEE. [Illustration] BUMBLE-BEE superbly dressed, In velvet, jet, and gold, Sailed along in eager quest, And hummed a ballad bold. Morning-Glory clinging tight To friendly spires of grass, Blushing in the early light, Looked out to see him pass. Nectar pure as crystal lay In her ruby cup; Bee was very glad to stay, Just to drink it up. "Fairest of the flowers," said he, "'Twas a precious boon; May you still a Glory be, Morning, night, and noon!" M. A. C. [Illustration] BILLY AND TOM. WHEN I was a little boy, six or seven years old, my father had two white horses, named Billy and Tom. Billy had one black foot, and a little dark spot on his face; but Tom did not have a black hair on his whole body. Billy was the old family horse, kind, gentle, and loving. Anybody could catch him, or lead him, or drive him. He liked to be petted, and in return seemed to take pride in being kind to all in the family. Tom was a good horse too; but we had not owned him so long, and he did not care much to have any one pet him. Billy was a little lame; and though he worked everywhere on the farm, and in drawing loads on the road, yet he was generally excused from going with the carriage, except when it was necessary for some of us children to drive.