a dime for your trouble," said I, putting the fish into
my pail. "Do you suppose I take pay for what I do for sport, mister?"
said little barefoot, waving back my hand with the air of a prince.

After that we became good friends, and met often at the bridge; but I
never could learn his knack of catching trout.

ALFRED SELWYN.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

WE THREE.

What fine times we have together!--Carlo, John, and Bella; by which last
I mean myself. Carlo has the advantage of the other two of us sometimes;
for he has four legs, and can run faster than either John or I. But then
we can do a great many things that Carlo cannot do.

For example, John and I sometimes take our books, and sit down on the
rocks in the wood, under the thick trees, and read stories. And then
Carlo will lie down at our feet, and go to sleep; for he cannot
understand the nice stories which the other two friends enjoy so much.

But wait till we go into the swamps after berries, or into the
wood-borders after hazel-nuts. Then Carlo is wide awake, you may be
sure. If he sees a snake, what a noise he makes! We can always tell by
the tone of his bark when he has found a snake.

And, when John climbs a tree after nuts, how anxiously Carlo will stand
underneath and watch him, so afraid is he that the little boy will get
a fall! And how the good dog will jump and show his pleasure when he
sees John once more safe on the firm ground!

Oh! we have fine times together, we three, both in summer and winter;
for Carlo likes to see us skate on ice, and is fond of a snowballing
frolic. In all our sleigh-rides he goes with us, and takes great care of
us. We are dear friends, we three, and I should no more think of
striking Carlo than of striking John.

BELLA.

PET, THE CANARY.

A little girl by the name of Agnes, who lives in Maine, and who much
enjoys "The Nursery," has a beautiful, bright canary, which her papa
brought her one day in a paper-box. Agnes named him Pet.

The little fellow has become so tame, that he is allowed to stay out of
his cage as long as he wishes, always going to it of his own accord when
bedtime comes. One day I found no pins on my pin-cushion; and, seeing
them scattered around on the bureau, I wondered who could have done the
mischief. I soon found, by watching, that it was Pet's work