but could he handle the sticks properly? He dared not ask his uncle for
leave to go into the choir-room, and he had no drum in the house. What
could he do? Practise he must, or he would never feel sure of himself.

'I will make a drum!' said the little fellow; 'I have an idea.'

There was a round basket in the out-house. It was generally used for
flour, but it happened to be nearly empty now, and Joseph seized on
this, as it was the shape of a drum; over it he stretched a clean
dishcloth, fastening it as tightly as possible with string.

'It makes a beautiful drum!' he said joyfully, as he beat it with two
sticks, and carrying his 'drum' into the parlour, he placed it on a
chair, propped the music up in front of him, and practised the fingering
diligently and noiselessly for an hour or more, till he felt quite sure
of himself.

Alas, for Joseph, however! He had been too absorbed in his drumming to
notice the small quantity of flour which had been left in the basket.
It was shaken out with each beat of the drum-sticks, and now lay thick
on the velvet cover of the chair. Joseph got a whipping for his
thoughtlessness, but that was nothing uncommon for children in the
eighteenth century, and was soon forgotten.

Easter arrived, and the little fellow played his drum so well, that for
many years after he played that instrument in the choir.

'Little Joseph' in after life became a famous musician, and wrote many
oratorios, of which the 'Creation' and the 'Seasons' are the most
famous. He visited England several times, and was often at the Court of
George III. Every one in this country did their best to honour the great
musician. He died in 1809 at Vienna, full of years and honours.

FOR HOME USE ONLY.

A Cambridge Professor once asked one of his friends to lend him a book
which he wished to consult. The messenger returned with the following
answer: 'I never allow my books to be taken out of my study, but if you
like to come there you are welcome to read as long as you please.'

Some days after this, the friend applied to the Professor for the loan
of his bellows. Remembering the refusal he had lately met with, he
replied: 'I never allow my bellows to be taken out of my room, but if
you choose to come there, you are welcome to blow with them as long as
you like.'

THE FAIRY QUEEN'S GIFT.

The Queen of Fairies passed last night,
The greenwood dancing through;
I watched her from my window-pa