GEORGE III. AND MR. RAMSDEN.

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THE late celebrated mathematical instrument maker, Mr. Ramsden, was frequently deficient in punctuality, and would delay for months, nay, for years, the delivery of instruments bespoken from him. His Majesty, who had more than once, experienced this dilatory disposition, once ordered an instrument, which he made Ramsden positively promise to deliver on a certain day. The day, however, came, but not the instrument. length Ramsden sent word to the king that it was finished; on which a message was sent him, desiring that he would bring it himself to the palace. He, however, answered that he would not come, unless his Majesty would promise not to be angry with him for his want of punctuality. "Well, well," said the King, "let him come: as he is conscious of his fault, it would be hard to reprove him for it." On this assurance he went to the palace, where he was graciously received: the king, after expressing his entire satisfaction with the instrument, only adding, with a goodnatured smile, "You have been uncommonly punctual this time, Mr. Ramsden, having brought the instrument on the very day of the month you promised it; you have only made a small mistake in the date of the year." It was, in fact, exactly a year after the stipulated time.

HUMANITY AND GENEROSITY.

AN amiable boy of about twelve years of age, met a man in the fields near his home, with four or five dozen of larks: the boy having amused himself by looking at them fluttering about in the basket, asked the man what he intended to do with them? and being told that he was going to sell them, "What will become of them, then?" said the boy, "They will be roasted and eaten, to be sure," said the fellow. On which the boy began to bargain for the birds, merely for the pleasure of saving their lives, and giving them their liberty. He produced all the money he had, and offered it for the birds; but the man refused, saying, he was sure of getting more from a gentleman who was very fond of roasted larks. "Roasted! poor little creatures !" cried the boy, looking compassionately at the birds through the basket;

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pray, good friend, let me have them; I will bring you more money, when I receive my next month's allowance." "I'll be hanged if I trust you," said the fellow; "so get along," giving the boy a rude push: but as he had hold of the cover of the basket, it was so much raised by the push, as to allow one half of the birds to fly away: when the man endeavoured to force down the cover, the boy kept his arm between it and the

edge of the basket, until all the remainder escaped. The boy's arm was severely squeezed, and his face much bruised, for the man continued to beat him after the struggle; and he would have suffered more, had not a servant, who was witness to the whole scene, interfered. His face and eyes were so much swelled and inflamed, and he was so feverish next day, that the man absconded: but the benevolent boy getting well in a few days, he stopped the prosecution that was intended, and went and paid to the man's wife, out of his allowance, the full price her husband had demanded for the birds.

THE PHILOSOPHER OUTDONE.

A LEARNED philosopher being very busy in his study, a little girl came to ask him for some fire. "But," says the doctor, "you have nothing to take it in;" and as he was going to fetch something for that purpose, the little girl stooped down at the fire place, and taking some cold ashes in one hand, she put live embers on them with the other. The astonished doctor threw down his books, saying, "With all my learning, I should never have found out that expedient."

THE LITTLE CHIMNEY SWEEPER.

WHOSE is that shrill and tiny voice,
That breaks upon our sleep,
Ere yet the morning streaks the east,
Repeating still-"Peep, peep!""

O, 't is that little sooty boy,

From his dark cellar driv'n,

To cry his trade from street to street,
And face the storms of Heav'n.-

For, O! 't is cold-'t is bitter cold!
And fast the snow comes down,
The panes with frost-work are inwrought,
And icicles abound.

Poor little thing! his feet are bare;
Methinks 1 see him weep;

But still he must pursue his course,
And faintly cry-"Peep, peep!"

Across his shivering shoulders hangs
A damp and sooty bag;

And from his loins, with every breeze,
Is flutt'ring many a rag.

He knows no father's tender care,
No mother's kind caress:

Perhaps he has a master stern

And rude and merciless!

Perhaps a pauper from his birth,
And in a poor-house bred,
A child of sorrow he has been,
By strangers clothed and fed.

Now he must wait at great folks' doors,
Till they shall please to rise;
And then, perhaps, a mouldy crust
His hunger must suffice.

Hush, children! hush! so snug and warm;

In peace and comfort sleep,

And think it mercy you're not call'd
To toil, and cry-" Peep, peep!"

BROTHERLY LOVE.

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A LITTLE boy seeing two nestling birds pecking at each other, inquired of his elder brother what they were doing. "They are quarreling, the answer. "No," replied the child, "that cannot be, they are brothers."