Tiny, raising her brimming pail of berries to the level of the counter.

6

Sartin. I'll measure 'em this minnit,' said Mr. Phipps, running for his quart measure. He came back in a second, and proceeded to measure the fruit, Tiny watching the proceedings with anxious eyes.

'Two quarts and a pint, just exactly,' said Mr. Phipps, with a flourish of his measure. 'Will you have the money, or do you want to trade?'

'The money, if you please,' said Tiny.

So Mr. Phipps counted out twenty cents from his money drawer, bestowing an extra penny in the little girl's hand, with the remark, 'That's for picking 'em so clean. Goin' to bring me any more, ma'am?'

'Yes, sir,' said Tiny, holding her money very fast, and walking towards the door. But in the doorway she suddenly stopped.

'Want anything more?' said Mr. Phipps, with his head in the sugar barrel.

Tiny hesitated, then came back.

'Have you got any slippers?' she asked.

'Slippers?' said the merchant.

keep 'em. Did you want a pair ?'

'No, ma'am, we don't

'No, sir,' said Tiny, shyly; 'but I wanted to know how they were made.'

'Wall, I don't know, but my wife does. She can tell you all about it; and then, if you want cloth and things, I can sell 'em to ye. Look here,' said Mr. Phipps, anxious to do his little customer a good turn, and sell his wares, 'you see that house across the road? Wall, that's my house, and if you'll just run over there, she'll cut you a pattern, and tell you all about it. Then you can buy

your things of me.'

But Tiny hesitated.

'Oh, you needn't be afraid of her,' said the grocer; 'she won't hurt ye.'

Thus urged, Tiny went to Mrs. Phipps. The grocery merchant was standing in the door when she returned.

'Didn't I tell you so?' said he, with a complaisant smile, as Tiny displayed her patterns. 'Now, what shall I put you up ?'

Very gravely, and much as if the welfare of the great republic depended upon her transactions, Tiny deposited the twenty cents which she had just received upon the counter. The grocer looked astonished.

'What, sick of your bargain so soon?' he asked.

'Oh no, sir; but, you see, I wanted to ask you something. Mrs. Phipps said that the cloth and braid for the slippers would cost a dollar. I haven't got any money of my own, sir; and how many quarts of huckleberries would it take, at eight cents, to come to a dollar, please ?' Mr. Phipps smiled benevolently.

'Just twelve and a pint, ma'am,' he said.

'Is that all ?' said Tiny, greatly relieved. 'Oh goody! that won't take long. Now, sir, will you keep the money for me, as fast as I earn it, till I get a dollar?'

'Yes,' said the obliging merchant; 'any way to accommodate.'

Unspeakably joyous, Tiny took her pail and patterns and departed.

Mr. Phipps watched the little figure till it disappeared down the dusty road, then resumed his labour, remarking, 'If she ain't the keenest little contriver!'

And as the days passed, each bringing the little berry merchant, the country grocer came at last to hail the hour when she entered his store, always with the same quantity, as the pleasantest one in the whole day. The neat, happy little figure, tripping about among the sugarbarrels, and hams, and quintals of fish, grew to be a most refreshing sight to his eyes.

Meanwhile, the shoemaker began to wonder how his little daughter could possibly eat so many huckleberries in her bread and milk, and what should take her so regularly to the village every afternoon. But just as he had made up his mind to speak to her about the matter, she suddenly stopped both her huckleberry picking and

I

her mysterious pilgrimage to the village, and in a few days the shoemaker had forgotten all about the matter.

But now came the little girl's greatest trial. She was not an expert at the needle, and her poor little thumb and fingers ached daily with the punctures they got. The pattern, which was to be wrought in braid, gave her a deal of vexation; and at times the perverse thread would become almost inextricably entangled in her braid bunches, till the ends to both seemed 'cut off,' as Paddy said. And all her work must be done out of her papa's sight, under the shade of the pasture-trees, or on the great flat rock among the ferns by the spring.

Huckleberry season passed-Tiny almost despairingand the warm, oppressive weather passed too, and the shoemaker's foot grew better rapidly; and one evening he quite confounded his little daughter by kicking the old slipper into a corner, and remarking, thankfully, ‘Tomorrow the old foot'll be well enough to wear a boot, like its mate.'

What do you think she did? Why, as soon as possible, she stole away to her little room and had a good cry, all by herself; not, of course, because her father's foot was healed, but because of her great disappointment; till, suddenly, there popped a new idea into her head, and she exclaimed

'Why, Tiny Peters, what are you doing? Ain't you ashamed! Here's your poor father's foot all well, and you crying about it! Now, your slippers are not half done, and won't be finished in less than two months. But you can finish them and make him a Christmas present, and that will be the splendidest thing that could happen!' And upon that her tears were straightway banished, and the happy labour resumed.

But time, and space, and words would fail to tell how merrily and blithely the little daughter laboured; how patiently the little fingers stitched the obstinate braid into harmonious patterns; how patiently they undid all wrong stitches; and how, after so much patience had

received its reward, and the great work was really accomplished, she heaved a little sigh of thankfulness, and laid them away to wait for Christmas morn.

It came. Right royally the sun came up to his work, and when his first rays broke upon the frosty, snowy earth, all the landscape suddenly glittered in a robe of jewels that fairly dazzled the eyes of man. The old shoemaker rose joyfully betimes to kindle his fire, thinking, 'What a lovely morning-and Christmas too! And to think, too, what a— Bless my eyes, what's this?' stumbling upon the slippers, hung upon a chair before the stove. Slowly he read these words

to mR. joHn PetErs

frOM his LittLE tinY.

Suddenly there issued a half-smothered scream of delight from the door of Tiny's room, then came a rush of little bare feet across the floor, and the old shoemaker and his little daughter were clasped in each other's arms. There was a long silence in the little room, then the old man took a look at the slippers, while the great tears rolled down; and Tiny cried a little, too, from sympathy. And then, when astonishment was quite removed by explanations, how happy they were !

Perhaps they were not the most perfect pair of slippers in the world; perhaps Mr. Phipps' braids were not of the brightest, nor Tiny's stitching the most elegant that could be done; but when looked at through the eyes of love, they were faultless. Ah, me! how much love can do in this world!-The Little Corporal.

NE day when Alfred was rummaging about in the woods near the mill, he found such a curious thing, it was the nest of a little dormouse! The young ones got away; but he caught the old mother, and brought it home. It was the dearest little creature that ever was seen; it was about the size of a common mouse, only much