rt, and if you'd
kindly let us have some books to read and teach us to do sums and
writing, we'd be very thankful."

Can't you fancy what good pupils those two boys became, and how they
delighted in reading in books instead of making their necks ache by
peering up at the shops?

E. M. W.

"HOME, SWEET HOME;"

OR, LOST IN LONDON.

Miles and miles away in the country, where not even a train ever
came, lived a family of children, of whom the eldest was a big lad of
eighteen, the youngest a little thing of five. They led a peaceful,
happy life among the fields and lanes and wild flowers, yet, like
many others, they took but little heed of the beauties around, and
some of them at least spent a great deal of time in sighing for
things they had not got.

Jennie, the eldest girl, had a great deal to do with that. She had a
habit of fancying every one more fortunate and happier than herself.
She was always wishing for some impossible thing. If by any chance
one of her wishes were gratified, she was always disappointed, and
began to want something else.

The children had often heard and read about a wonderful place called
London. Jennie, who was a very kind sister, was always talking to
them about it, and the wonderful stories she told them made them long
to see this enchanted city. That, indeed, was one of Jennie's
unfulfilled longings. She had read a great deal, and imagined a great
deal more, till she set all the children longing too.

Their big brother Donald heard Phyllis and Effie talking together one
day, and he burst in upon them with a laugh, and told them that all
the houses were palaces and the streets paved with gold, that marble
fountains played in them, and that golden carriages drawn by
milk-white steeds rolled incessantly along; that trains rushed in
every direction, and that if you just stepped inside one it would
take you anywhere, like a flash of lightning; that there was a church
so high that you could not see the roof, and a needle so big that
twenty men could not lift it. Then Donald went away laughing, and the
children held their breath with wonder, and agreed that they should
never be happy till they had seen this fairyland.

Not very long after their mother came down to breakfast with red
eyes, and their father looked grave. They knew something was the
matter, and sat waiting in sorrowful dread.

"Children," said their mother, with a shaky voice, "you will have to
leave this beautif