e been that boy he sent up to his room.

She described the boy, and Harry knew in a moment that it was Dick Taft.

"So that is the way he paid me for beating him at a game," cried Harry.
"Well, never again, so long as I live, will I play with a boy who is
mean enough to do such a trick as that."

And he kept his word.

A NAUGHTY PUMPKIN'S FATE.

A queer little pumpkin, a jolly fat fellow,
Stood close to his mother so rotund and yellow.
"What a stupid old place! how I long to aspire,"
Cried he, "I was destined for something much higher."

"My son," said the mother, "pray do be content,
There's great satisfaction in life that's well spent!"
But he shrugged up his shoulders, this pumpkin, 't is true,
And acted just like some bad children will do.

With a shout and a whoop, in the garden they ran,
Tom and Ned, for they'd thought of the loveliest plan
To astonish their friends from the city, you see,
With a fine Jack-o'-lantern--"Ah, this one suits me!"

Neddie seized the bad pumpkin, and dug out his brains,
Till he felt so light-headed and brimful of pains;
Then two eyes, a long nose, and a mouth big and wide,
They cut in a minute, and laid him aside

Until night, when they hung him upon a stout limb,
With a candle inside; how his poor head did swim,
As they twisted him this way, then twirled him round that,
Till at last, with a crash, he fell on the ground flat,

A wreck of the once jolly, fat little fellow,
Who stood by his mother so rotund and yellow.
Just then a lean cow, who was passing that way,
Ate him up, just to finish HER "Thanksgiving Day."

SOMETHING ABOUT FIRES.

It was a cold day. Fred was tired of reading, tired of looking out of
the window, and so he poked the fire for a change.

"I suppose there are a good many different sorts of fires," he said to
his mamma, as he laid down the poker.

"Yes, indeed," she answered. "It is very interesting to know how people
keep warm in all parts of the world, especially where fuel is scarce and
dear. In Iceland, for example, fires are often made of fish-bones! Think
of that. In Holland and other countries a kind of turf called peat is
dug up in great quantities and used for fuel. And in France a coarse
yellow and brown sea-weed, which is found in Finistere, is carefully
dried and piled up for winter u