reath grew shorter and
shorter, and soon after his little hand dropped away from his brother's,
and he was dead.

And his Father had him buried in Highgate Cemetery.

It was in the summer time that he died, and his brother Henry planted a
white rose-bush at the foot of the little grave, and a red rose-bush at
the head, and often in the pleasant summer afternoons he would go alone
to Highgate, and sit upon little Charley's grave, and think how he might
at that moment be praying for him in Heaven.

Henry is now a man. He was always a good boy. He is now a good man; and
although many years have passed since he lost his little brother, he
goes every summer to Highgate to visit his grave; and the tears always
come into his eyes when he speaks of him, and tells that little
Charley's last words were, that he would pray to Jesus to let his
darling brother come soon, and sing him to sleep in Heaven.

ANNIE BROWNE.

Little Annie Browne was an only child, that is, she had no little
brothers or sisters; so you may be sure her parents loved this little
girl very much indeed, and were always endeavouring to make her happy.
Now I wonder if the dear little boy or girl, who is reading this, can
guess the means that Annie's Father and Mother took to make her happy.

Did they give her plenty of candy? No. Did they buy new play-things for
her every day? No. Did they take her very often to the Museum or the
Zoological Gardens? No; this was not the way. I will tell you what they
did; and I will tell you what Annie did for one whole day when she was
about five years old, and that will give you a very good idea of the way
they took to make her _good_, for then she was _sure_ to be _happy_.

Well, one day Annie woke up very early in the morning, and, sitting up
in her little bed, which was close by the side of her Mamma's, she first
rubbed her eyes, and then she looked all round the room, and saw a
narrow streak of bright light on the wall. It was made by the sun
shining through a crack in the shutter. She began to sing softly this
little song, that she had learned in school,--

"What is it shines so very bright,
That quick dispels the dusky night?--
It is the sun--the sun;
Shedding around its cheerful light,
It is the sun--the sun."

Presently she looked round again, and saw her Mamma sleeping. She said,
in her soft little voice, "Mamma, Mamma! good morning, dear Mamma!"

But her Mamma did not w