musement," said
Agnes, when they had gone into the nursery.

"How would you like to have some tableaux in here?" asked their French
governess, Miss Marcelle.

"Oh, yes," they all cried, "it would be fun, mama loves tableaux."

So all day long they were busy arranging five tableaux for the evening.
The tableaux were to be in the room which had folding-doors opening into
Mrs. Wendell's sitting-room.

At the proper time Miss Marcelle stepped outside the folding-doors and
made a pretty little speech. She said that some young ladies and a young
gentleman had asked permission to show some tableaux to Mrs. Wendell
if she would like to see them. Mrs. Wendell replied that she would be
charmed.

Then mademoiselle announced the tableaux; opening the doors wide for
each one. This is a list of the tableaux: First, The Sleeping Beauty;
second, Little Red Riding Hood third, The Fairy Queen; fourth, Old
Mother Hubbard; fifth, The Lord High Admiral.

Miss Marcelle had arranged everything so nicely, and Celeste, the French
maid, helped so much with the dressing, that the pictures all went off
without a single mistake.

Mama was delighted. She said she must kiss those dear young ladies, and
that delightful young man who had given her such a charming surprise.

So all the children came in rosy and smiling.

"Why, didn't you know us?" asked the little Lord Admiral.

"I know this," said mama, "I am like Agnes. I NEVER had such a happy
Christmas before."

CURED OF CARELESSNESS.

Mrs. Bertram sat reading a book one morning, or trying to. It was not
easy to do so, for her little boy, Roger, was out in the hall playing
with his drum. Suddenly the drumming ceased, and in a moment Roger
rushed into the room crying as if his heart would break.

"I've burst it. I've burst it," he sobbed.

"Your drum," asked his mother. "How did you do that?"

"I was beating it with the poker and the tongs and--"

"With the poker and tongs!" exclaimed his mother. "Why, where were your
drum-sticks?"

Then Roger stopped crying, and hung his head with shame.

"Where are your drum-sticks?" asked his mother, again.

"I--I--don't know," sobbed Roger.

"Have you lost those, too?" said Mrs. Bertram. She needed no words for
answer. Roger's manner was quite enough. "You know, dear, what I said
would happen the next time you lost anything."

"Yes," said Roger, "I you said I must give away all my toys to some
little boys who would take care of th