_Mr. R._ Then, my dear boy, you must never again tell me you don't know how to write a letter; for I assure you that you have a much better notion of letter writing than many people have who are five times your age. The narrative we are about to relate is contained in a series of letters; and though, perhaps, this is not the most interesting form of story-telling, the events described are of so amusing a character that we feel sure our young readers will feel pleasure in their perusal. They are very simply written, affording a fine illustration of the recipe for letter writing—civility, truth, and interest. [Illustration] LETTER I. MARGARET TO HER MOTHER. DEAREST MOTHER:—You will be glad to know that I have arrived safe in the city. I came exactly at the appointed time, and my mistress was much pleased with my punctuality. She welcomed me affectionately. I think you will be pleased to know the reason of her taking me into her service. She very kindly told me what induced her to select me for the vacant situation. It appears that when she came on a visit to our good pastor last spring, that she had occasion to consult a great number of papers, and had but little time to devote to her children. In order to divert and gratify them, our good minister sent for me, that I might take care of the children and lead them into the woods and fields, so that they might thoroughly enjoy the country while they were in it. One day, the lady, accompanied by our minister, who you must know is the lady's brother, followed us to the meadow, and watched us, though we knew nothing of their presence. It was a bright morning, and the sun was shining on the little stream. The youngest boy saw some glittering fish and wished to wade into the waters to catch them. In order to turn his attention from this, and to lead him away from the stream, where I feared some accident might occur, I called him to follow me, and the children gathering round me, we sought out a pleasant spot all filled with flowers. There I know the children were secure, and there I knew they would be very happy. Children love flowers. Flowers, you used to tell me, are the children of the earth. "Now," said I to the children, "cannot God make beautiful flowers? Is He not good to care for them, and give them rain and sunshine?" The children agreed. "Then," said I, "how much more does He care for children! And how ought we to love Him, who loves us so fondly and so constantly." I had no thought that anybody was listening but the dear little ones, but it was overheard. My observations pleased the lady. The good minister praised you, dearest mother, for the instruction you had given me. He spoke very favorably of my attention at school, and the lady was so well pleased, that when the children's maid was obliged to return to her parents who needed her, and the situation became vacant, she sent for me; and kind enough was she to say that she thought it was God who had brought us together.