they must apply to the children under their care as they think best. The
religious tone of the "Stories" is even more pronounced than that of the
"Education of Daughters." The following is but one of many proofs of
Mary's honest endeavors to make children understand the importance of
religious devotion. In one of her conversational sermons Mrs. Mason says:

"Recollect that from religion your chief comfort must spring, and
never neglect the duty of prayer. Learn from experience the comfort
that arises from making known your wants and sorrows to the wisest
and best of Beings, in whose hands are the issues, not only of this
life, but of that which is to come."

To strengthen the effect of Mrs. Mason's words, an example or story is in
every chapter added to her remarks. They are all appropriate, and many of
the tales are beautiful. As the book is so little known, one of these may
with advantage be given here. The story selected is that of Crazy Robin.
Mrs. Mason tells it to Mary and Caroline, the two little girls, to
explain to them how much wretchedness can be produced by unkindness to
men and beasts. It is interesting because it shows the quality of the
mental food which Mary thought best fitted for the capacity of children.
She was evidently an advocate for strong nourishment. Besides, the story,
despite some unpleasant defects of style, is very powerful. It is full of
dramatic force, and is related with great simplicity and pathos:--

"In yonder cave lived a poor man, who generally went by the name of
Crazy Robin. In his youth he was very industrious, and married my
father's dairy-maid, a girl deserving of such a good husband. For
some time they continued to live very comfortably; their daily
labor procured their daily bread; but Robin, finding it was likely
he should have a large family, borrowed a trifle to add to the
small pittance they had saved in service, and took a little farm
in a neighboring county. I was then a child.

"Ten or twelve years after, I heard that a crazy man, who appeared
very harmless, had by the side of the brook piled a great number of
stones; he would wade into the river for them, followed by a cur
dog, whom he would frequently call his Jacky, and even his Nancy;
and then mumble to himself, 'Thou wilt not leave me. We will dwell
with the owl in the ivy.' A number of owls had taken shelter in it.