eep.

On New Year's morning, Harry found a large bag hanging to his bed
post, containing a magic lantern; and Frank saw on his bureau a
complete set of Miss Edgeworth's Works.

Again it is New Year's eve. Another year has passed happily over the
home of Mrs. Chilton and her boys.

"To-morrow, dear Mother, is New Year's day," said Frank; "may we
not, as we are one year older, sit up till the clock strikes twelve,
and wish you a happy new year before we go to bed?"

"Yes, boys, if you can keep awake, you may sit up. Tell me, Frank,
do you think you have gained as much this year as you ought to have
gained? Ere long you will be a man."

"I think I have gained something," replied Frank. "I am at the head
of my class in school. I am three inches taller, I am stronger, and
I know a great deal more than I did last year."

"Is that all you have gained? Have you cured any of your faults? Can
you command your temper any better? Are you any more disinterested?
Are you more careful about the truth--in short, are you a better
boy?"

"I cannot say, Mother; you know about that better than I."

"You expect a New Year's gift to-morrow, I presume, Frank."

"Yes, Mother, you always give us a New Year's gift, you know. Will
you let us sit up till the clock strikes twelve to-night?"

Their mother promised that they should, and added, "I have been
thinking of a New Year's gift for you, Frank, that I am not quite
sure you will like. I will tell you what it is, and if you do not
like it, you will say so honestly, I trust."

"What is it, Mother?"

"You know the little room I call my closet. It has a window in it,
and contains some shelves with books on them. I propose to give you
that closet, with all the books I shall leave in it, for your own.
In it are a desk and a chair. From the window, you look directly,
you know, upon the pine grove. In this little room, you may study
and write and read and think also, as much as you please."

Frank could scarcely hear his mother finish, for delight at the
thought. "All my own? the books, the desk, the nice old-fashioned
chair and the closet itself? Why, Mother, I never should have
believed you would have given it to me for my own. There is nothing
I should like so well in the world. Shall I have the Shakespeare,
and the Johnson, and the Classical Dictionary, and the Sir Charles
Grandison, and all the old poets, and those French books in it, and
the Homer and the Virgil too?"

"Yes, my