ng to tell you now. It
is about a little boy whose name was William Ross. Having had a present
of a pencil, he thought he would make use of it by trying to draw.

His first attempts were poor enough. One day, when he had been playing
ball with a young friend, he stopped, and, taking out his pencil, began
to draw a picture on the wall.

"What do you call that?" asked his friend. "Why, that is a horse!"
replied William: "can't you see?"--"A horse! is it?" cried his friend,
laughing. "Why, I took it for a donkey."

"You are quite right in laughing at it," said William. "Now that I look
at it again, I see it is all out of drawing; but I will keep at it till
I can make a good drawing of a horse."

William was not afraid of being laughed at; and he felt much obliged to
those who pointed out any faults in what he did. He was not discouraged
by failures. He kept trying till he had used his pencil nearly all up.
Still he had not yet made a good drawing of a horse.

"You'll never learn to draw: so you may as well give it up first as
last," said his friend to him one day, some six months after their last
meeting. "Your horses are all donkeys still."

William opened a portfolio, and, taking out some pictures, said, "What
do you think of these?"

"Ah! here is something like a horse," replied his friend, looking at one
of the drawings. "You will never do any thing like this, Willy."

William smiled, but said nothing; though it was his own drawing that his
friend was praising.

Well, by bravely keeping at it, William at last began to make pictures
worth looking at. While yet a boy, he sent in a painting to the Society
of Arts, for which he received a present of a silver palette. He rose to
be Sir William Ross, miniature painter to Queen Victoria.

Don't be discouraged, my young friends, by failing in your first
attempts. Learn to persevere. Keep at it. That's the Way.

UNCLE CHARLES.

[Illustration]

THE PRISONER.

EVA is six years old, and has deep-blue eyes. Ernest is almost four
years old, and has very black eyes. Jessie will be two years old next
week, and has large brown eyes. Their papa, who has been kept at home
by illness for a week, thinks that he is just getting acquainted with
them, and never knew before that he had three such fine children.

He noticed, the other day, that every hour, almost, they would run into
the sitting-room with cake or sugar