But, as he grew old and feeble, he gradually got out of the way of doing such services, and spent his time mostly in sleeping, or in jogging about, without care. One day his mistress had told her husband, as he went to his business in the morning, to send around the carriage at ten o'clock. This he forgot to do; and when the hour came, and there was no carriage, the lady knew it would be necessary to remind her husband of his promise. But she had no one to send with a message. At last she chanced to remember that Ponto used to go on such errands, and, writing a note, she called him to her, and said,-- "Here, Ponto, take this note to your master." Ponto took the note carefully in his mouth, but did not seem to know what he was expected to do with it. "Go, Ponto," she said; "take the note to your master." He trotted on a little way, paused, turned and hesitated, and then trotted a little farther. This he repeated several times, and at last, started off at a good gait. But wise old Ponto! Did he, after so much pondering, take the note to his master? Not a bit of it! He went straight to the butcher's, and presented the billet, wagging his tail at the same time, as much as to say, "Here's an order for my dinner!" The butcher, understanding the situation, rolled up a nice piece of meat in a paper, gave it to Ponto, and then himself delivered the note to the gentleman. Ponto stalked home as proud as a king, laid the package at his mistress's feet, and waited, with a delighted, expressive wag, for her approval. Of course she gave him all the meat, patted his faithful old head, and called him "good Ponto." The carriage came in good time; and Ponto does not know to this day but what he did exactly as he was told. C. D. B. THE BUTTERFLY AND THE GRASSHOPPER.