JOHN sits on a three-legged stool. What is he doing? We can't tell, for we can't see through him: so we must guess. I guess he is watching a game of lawn-tennis. [Illustration] I think I see one of the players that John has his eye on. It is a bright little girl. Her name is Julia. Look at her. She is having fine fun. John hopes that her side will win. And so do I. Let us all give three cheers for her. M. L. O. [Illustration] THE KITTEN'S NECKTIE. "PUSS, Puss, Puss! where are you?" said little Nellie Rich. She had tied a new, bright, cherry ribbon on the kitten's neck, and told her to keep it nice; "for," said Nellie, "my cousin Belle is coming to see me this afternoon, and I want to show her how pretty you can look." And now naughty puss had run off, and she would come back, perhaps, with the new ribbon all rumpled and soiled. After searching through the house, Nellie ran out to the barn to look for the lost pet. Sure enough, there was the kitten, not taking the least care of her necktie, just ready to pounce upon a big mouse. Nellie's voice startled her so that she did not catch the mouse, after all. The nimble little rogue darted into a hole before kitty could even get her paw on his tail. But the cherry bow was still safe and unsoiled. So, after giving pussy a lecture on her disobedience, Nellie took her into the house. She met Belle at the door, and told her what a search she had made; while puss, cuddled in her arms, kept up a busy purring, as much as to say, "I'm sorry you were displeased with me. I really thought you would praise me for trying to catch that big mouse; for I'm not much more than a kitten yet." DORA BURNSIDE. A THRIFTY FAMILY. 'TWAS a bitter cold morning; the new-fallen snow Had pierced every crack where a snowflake could go; The streams were all solid, the ice sharp and clear; And even the fishes were chilly, I fear. Almost all the wild creatures were troubled and cold, And sighed for sweet summer,--the shy and the bold; But one thrifty family, as you must know, Was breakfasting merrily under the snow. Close by a tall tree, in a hole in the ground, Which led to a parlor, with leaves cushioned round, Five jolly red squirrels were sitting at ease, And eating their breakfast, as gay as you please. D. H. R. GOODALE. [Illustration] [Illustration] WHEN WILL THE SNOW COME? WHEN will the snow come, mother dear? When will the soft white snow be here? Upon my sled I want to go: Oh for the snow! I long for snow. I want to see it falling fast, And covering all the ground at last, So Dick and I can snowballs throw: Oh for the snow, the splendid snow!