"SPEAK for it if you want it," said little Johnny, holding out a piece of bread to the old duck. She had just come in with her large family from a swim in the pond. "Quack, quack!" said the duck, waddling up, and opening her great bill. "Don't let the old duck swallow your finger, Johnny!" said Ellen. Johnny dropped the bread. The greedy duck snatched it, and in less than half a minute she opened her great bill again, and quacked for more. Meanwhile grandma had been throwing out meal to the ducklings. But one pert little duckling was not satisfied with that. [Illustration] He lifted up his head, and fluttered his little bits of wings, and opened his mouth, and tried to quack, as much as to say,-- "I don't like meal and water. I want to have what ma has. Give me some too." This made Ellen laugh: it was so like some children that she had seen! UNCLE CHARLES. "TIT FOR TAT." LITTLE Tommy Tompkins sitting on a log Holds a conversation with a consequential frog. "Little Tommy Tompkins," says that frog, says he, "Yesterday I saw you fling a stone at me. "I had my new green coat on: you nearly ruined that! Little Tommy Tompkins, I believe in 'tit for tat.'" "Please, I didn't mean to," cries Tommy in affright, "I know--boo-hoo--'twas wrong. I know it wasn't right." "Little Tommy Tompkins," the dreadful frog replies, "Dry your tears, and stop your noise, and from that log arise. "The sport of being stoned you shall have a chance to see; I hope it will be fun for you; 'twill be jolly fun for me." Then on a sudden Tommy goes tumbling with a splash Down to the muddy water, while froggie makes a dash, And, sitting on the log, oh many a stone throws he, Hitting wretched little Tommy with considerable glee. "Hold on!" cries Tommy, vainly. "You're nothing but a frog!" Comes the answer, as the stones fly faster from the log. Was ever boy so wretched! was ever frog so glad! I really don't know what would have happened to the lad. But by chance a wandering bee stung young Tommy on the nose, And, waking from a fearful dream, up from that log he rose. MARY D. BRINE. LONELY JACK. WHO do you suppose Jack was? Not a boy, nor a dog, nor a horse, nor a parrot. He was a fat little donkey, who lived on a large farm with thirteen other donkeys, all fat too, and they had nothing to do all day long but eat and be happy. Jack thought there never before had been such fortunate creatures as they were, and did not dream of separation from his dear friends. But one day a man came up with a rope, and, before the donkeys knew what he was doing, threw it over poor little Jack's neck, and tried to lead him away.