"All that is very well," said her father; "but just you try to milk her: that's all. No, you sha'n't venture. It would be as much as your life is worth." "I am very sure she will let me milk her," said Mabel. "Do not forbid my trying. She looks at me out of her big eyes as if she thought me her friend." So Mabel took the tin pail, and sat down on the little low milking-stool; and soon, to her father's astonishment, she finished milking, the cow having stood all the while as quiet as a lamb. It was found that the cow had been badly treated by the man who had owned her, and who had been in the habit of milking her. Being a high-spirited beast, she then gave him so much trouble, that he was soon glad to be rid of her. She would now let no one touch her but Mabel: so Mr. Brittan finally said that the cow should be Mabel's cow, and that all the butter which the cow yielded should be hers. But Mabel is a generous girl; and so she shares the money she earns. Her mother, her sister Emily, and her brothers Oliver and Frank, all get a part of it. Mabel has given the cow a name; and the cow will come to her when she calls her by name. The name is a very pretty one for a cow, I think. It is Dido. EMILY CARTER. HARRY AND THE BIG "POP-CORNER." LITTLE HAROLD was delighted, one winter morning, to hear that he could go to his grandpapa's with his mother, for a few days. He had often been there in summer, when the grass was green, and flowers were blooming around the old homestead; but this was his first _winter_ visit. A pleasant ride of forty miles by the railway, then a short ride in an old-fashioned stage-sleigh, and the sober old horses, with their jingling bells, stopped before grandpa's pleasant home. Harry ran up to the door, shouting, "We've come, grandpa! We've come!" The door opened; the little fellow rushed into his grandpa's arms; and golden curls and thin gray locks were mingled for an instant. Then the young arms were thrown around dear Aunt Susie; and such a welcome was given as little boys love to have. Harry then trotted off to the kitchen to find his friend Patty, the cook. In a few minutes he came running back, exclaiming, "O mamma! do come and see what a big _pop-corner_ Patty has in the kitchen." "Corn-popper, I suppose you mean," said his mamma, laughing, as she and Aunt Susie followed him to the kitchen. There, hanging behind the stove, was a large brass pan, as bright as gold: it had a cover full of holes, and a long handle. This was what Harry took for a corn-popper. "Oh! that is a warming-pan," said his mother. "A what kind of a pan?" said Harry with great surprise. "What _do_ you mean, mamma?" "Well, Harry, if you can be quiet a minute, I will tell you. When your Aunt Susie and I were little girls, and your uncles little boys, grandpapa's house was not warmed all over, as it is now. Furnaces were not used in those days; and the bed-rooms up stairs were very cold.