re you that it has cost me so much labour that it has whitened my
hair.'

_From SMILES'S 'Self-Help'._

A GENTLE DONKEY.

(_Continued from page 378._)

II.

The next day, just before the donkey-cart was expected round, Major
Raeburn ran up to the nursery.

'I should drive down that quiet road towards the Mill, Mary; and don't
allow Master Harry to irritate Tim with a whip, or any nonsense of that
sort. Do you hear?' he continued, turning round to that young gentleman,
who, seated in baby's chair, was pretending to be a motor. 'Promise that
you will be a good boy.'

'All right, Father, but you had better get out of the way now, or you
will be run over by my motor. People that get in front of motors always
get killed.'

Here he uttered a piercing yell, at which six-months-old Baby crowed and
kicked to show how much she enjoyed the game.

'That's just the engine exploded,' he explained, 'and Mary, you must
come and see if the driver is killed.'

At this point in his game the sound of wheels was heard upon the gravel
outside; with a bound Harry was on the seat of Nannie's chair at the
window.

'It's Tim, it's Tim!' he cried, and picking up his little sailor cap, he
tore downstairs to inspect his new present.

'Good morning, Master Harry,' said Simmons, as Harry danced out upon the
drive; 'are you going to give Tim a piece of sugar?'

'May I?' he called out to his mother, who was looking through the rugs
in an old oak chest for one that would be suitable for the size of the
donkey-cart.

'Yes, dear, certainly. Ah, there you are, Mollie,' she continued to her
sister-in-law, who had been roused from her book in the drawing-room by
the sound of the voices. 'Are you sure that you care to go? I am afraid
that you will be dreadfully cramped in that small cart. If I were in
your place, I should keep the door open and hang my legs out.'

'Keep your mind quite easy about me,' answered Aunt Mollie, laughing.
'If the worst comes to the worst, I can always get out and run behind!
Where is our driver? In the cart? I never saw you come out, Mary. Now
then, Harry, tumble in, opposite to Mary. Aunt Mollie is going to be the
footman and sit at the door.'

Mary chirruped to the donkey, Harry waved his cap, and as Simmons shut
the door of the cart with a sharp bang, Tim tossed his head in the air
with a 'don't I look nice?' expression in his large soft eyes, and
trotted away down the broad tree-lined avenue.