woman as she ever was in her life, you little
rogue!"

Andy laughed again at the recollection. "You was smoking your pipe,"
said he, "with your old black cat in your lap, and 't was fun to see you
jump up and catch your crutch!"

"Fun to you! but do you think of my poor old bones? I'm almost a hundred
years old," said Mother Quirk; "and shall I tell you what I've learnt
all this time? I've learnt that the meanest thing in the world is to
treat ill those who treat you kindly; and that the worst thing is
lying."

Andy was sobered again, and the old woman continued:--

"What if everybody and everything should lie? What if we could never
know when to believe what our friends and neighbors tell us? What if my
crutch should lie, and, when I lean on it, break and let me fall?"

"I think it would be fun!" said Andy.

"And what if the ground you stand on should not be the ground it appears
to be, but a great pit, and should let you fall into it when you think
you are walking on the grass? Suppose that everything was a lie, that
nothing was what it pretends to be, that the whole world should trick
and cheat us?" cried the old woman, raising her voice.

"I should like to see the spot!" said Andy, giggling again.

"Should you?" almost shrieked the old woman, with a terrible look.

"Yes!" and Andy grinned at a safe distance.

"Then try it!" exclaimed Mother Quirk.

And holding her crutch under her shoulder, she brought her hands
together with a loud slap. Although Andy was at least three yards off,
it seemed to him exactly as if she had boxed his ear. He was almost
knocked down, and his head hummed like a beehive; but he could not, to
save his life, tell which ear had been boxed, nor which he ought to rub.
For a minute, he kept whirling around, as dizzy as a top. Then a voice
cried, "Catch that rabbit!"

_J. T. Trowbridge._

(_To be continued._)

WINNING HIS WAY.

CHAPTER I.

FIRST YEARS.

Many years ago, before railroads were thought of, a company of
Connecticut farmers, who had heard marvellous stories of the richness of
the land in the West, sold their farms, packed up their goods, bade
adieu to their friends, and with their families started for Ohio.

After weeks of travel over dusty roads, they came to a beautiful valley,
watered by a winding brook. The hills around were fair and sunny. There
were groves of oaks, and maples, and lindens. The air was fragrant with
honeysuckle and jasmine. There wa