What, call my poor old Tabby cross! I'm sure she's very good with _me_; For, when _I_ go to aunty Gray's, She always close beside me stays. If I sit down, she climbs my knee, And rubs her head against my cheek, And acts as though she'd like to speak, And say she wants my friend to be. I'd rather have her for my own Than all the cats I've ever known: Black, yellow, Maltese, large and small, Old Tab's the nicest of them all. JAMES. Yes, Tabby _is_ a knowing cat. When you have been at aunty Gray's, She's proved you both, and learned your ways: She finds that Jack would never fail To try and swing her by the tail, While Jane will softly stroke her fur; So she will answer by a purr, To show Jane's gentle touch she likes, But Jack, with her sharp claws, she strikes. My mother says we ought to treat With love each living thing we meet, And even pussy-cats can tell Who are the ones that use them well. MARIAN DOUGLAS. PICKING ORANGES. WILLY and Ben are two little boys who live in the old city of Saint Augustine. They do not have sleigh-rides and coasts; for Saint Augustine is way down South, in Florida, where snow never falls. But, while the boys and girls in the North are wearing mittens and tippets and thick coats when they go out to play, Willy and Ben are running about bare-headed in the orange-groves, or plucking roses from the garden. All around the house are orange-trees, and in among the glossy green leaves hang the great yellow juicy oranges. The fruit is ripe early in December, and ready to be picked. Miles, the colored man, takes his big clippers and goes up the high step-ladder which he has placed near the tree. He cuts each orange from the branch, taking care not to get hurt by the long, sharp thorns. Willy stands at the foot of the ladder, ready to catch the oranges as Miles tosses them down. Sometimes they pick five or six baskets in an afternoon. Miles says Willy is a "bery good catch." He sometimes tires of catching them; but he never tires of eating them. I looked into the packing-room this morning, and there lay seventeen hundred yellow balls. Papa lets both his little boys help wrap the oranges. Each orange is wrapped in a piece of tissue-paper that is cut just the right size. Willy always says as he begins, "Now let's see who'll beat!" Do you know what he means? Ben cannot wrap oranges as fast as Willy; but, as they are wrapped, he hands them to papa to pack in boxes. He can read the word "Boston" that papa writes in black letters on the outside of the boxes. [Illustration] Of course papa pays his workers, and they take their money all to mamma to keep for them. They have so much whispering to do about it, that I think they are saving it to buy holiday gifts. JIMMIE. [Illustration] THE MAY-QUEEN.