ir, she told Miss Jenny that
she must defer reading the remaining part of her story till the next
day. Miss Jenny always with great cheerfulness obeyed her governess, and
immediately left off reading; and said she was ready to attend her; and
the whole company rose up to follow her.

Mrs. Teachum had so much judgment, that, perceiving such a ready
obedience to all her commands, she now endeavoured, by all means she
could think of; to make her scholars throw off that reserve before her,
which must ever make it uneasy to them for her ever to be present
whilst they were following their innocent diversions; for such was the
understanding of this good woman, that she could keep up the authority
of the governess in her school, yet at times become the companion of
her scholars. And as she now saw, by their good behaviour, they deserved
that indulgence, she took the little dumpling by the hand, and, followed
by the rest, walked towards the house, and discoursed familiarly with
them the rest of the evening, concerning all their past amusements.

SATURDAY. THE SIXTH DAY.

It was the custom on Saturdays to have no school in the afternoon, and
it being also their writing day from morning-school till dinner, Mrs.
Teachum, knowing how eager Miss Jenny's hearers were for the rest of the
story, accompanied them into the arbour, early in the afternoon, when
Miss Jenny went on as follows:

THE FAIRY TALE CONTINUED.

The queen and the Princess Hebe remained, by the good fairy's desire, in
her habitation during her absence. They spent their time in serenity and
content; the princess daily improving herself in wisdom and goodness, by
hearkening to her mother's instructions, and obeying all her commands,
and the queen in studying what would be of most use to her child. She
had now forgot her throne and palace, and desired nothing for her, than
her present peaceful retreat. One morning, as they were sitting in a
little arbour at the corner of a pleasant meadow, on a sudden they
heard a voice, much sweeter than they had ever heard, warble through the
following song:

A SONG.

Virtue, soft balm of every woe,
Of ev'ry grief the cure,
'Tis thou alone that canst best bestow
Pleasures unmix'd and pure.

The shady wood, the verdant mead,
Are Virtue's flow'ry road;
Nor painful are the steps which lead
To her divine abode.

'Tis not in palaces of halls,
She or the