"What are you proudest of?" said Mattie to Bertie. "I'm proudest of my new red-top boots," said Bertie. "I'm proudest of my new black hat," said Clay. Mattie was proudest of her muff and boa. Little Bell was proudest of her wax doll.

But Dempsey had the queerest pride of all. He had no boots or mittens; and his clothes were coarse and worn. What had he to be proud of? This is what he said, "I'm proudest of my papa's wooden leg." The other little people were too polite to laugh at him; but they looked at him with wonder.

"Let me tell you," said he, "why I'm proud of my papa's wooden leg. One time when there was a war, and men were wanted to help fight the battles, my papa took his gun, and went into the army. And when there was a great battle, and men were shot down all around him, my papa stood beside the man that held the flag. And, when the man was killed, my papa would not let the flag fall, but took it in his own hands. Then the soldiers on the other side fired at the flag with a big cannon; and the ball took off my papa's leg. He was sick a long time; but he got a letter from his commander that said he was a brave man, and had done his duty nobly. This is why I am proud of my papa's wooden leg."

Mattie and Bertie and Clay and Bell all thought that this was a pretty story; and Clay said, "Dempsey is right. He has something more to be proud of than any of us."

Fannie.

JENNY AND TIMOTHY WREN

Sweet little, neat little Miss Jenny Wren, On a white hawthorn spray, In the bright month of May, Sat chirping so sweet,— "Pewhit and pewheet," Where daisies unfold. And kingcups of gold Shine out on a glad May morning. Down-crested, brown-breasted Timothy Wren, As he fluttered along, Trilled the snatch of a song; Then chirruped her name As near her he came, And told of his love, As meek as a dove, To Jenny, that bright May morning. "Hear, Jenny, dear Jenny, sweet Jenny Wren: If you'll be my own wife, I will love you through life; We'll gather the moss, Soft feathers, and floss; And build us a nest, The neatest and best, And sing through the bright May mornings." May blossoms, gay blossoms, curtained their nest: Through the tiny mouse-hole, Little Jenny she stole; There, of no one afraid, Ten fine eggs she laid, While Timothy dear Sang blithely and clear, "How sweet are the bright May mornings!"

George Bennett.

WHAT MAMIE DID

Mamie is a little girl five years old, with bright black eyes, and rosy red cheeks.

She is very fond of "The Nursery," as are a great many other Mamies.

Now, which Mamie is this story about? They are all wondering, but cannot tell certainly, till they have heard it read.

Well, one cold winter's day, this little Mamie came to her mother with a very urgent request. What do you suppose it was? To go out coasting? No.

To go to visit her little friend Nellie? No.

To take a sleigh-ride with her papa? Wrong again.

Ah! you can never guess, and I will tell you.

It was this: "O mamma! do put on my things, and let me go out and get exscribers for 'The Nursery.'"

Mamma shook her head; though she could not help laughing at the little girl's mistake, for she meant subscribers. It is a hard word; but this little Mamie knew the meaning well.

"O mamma! please do; for you know I love it. And Jennie and Katie and Bessie will love it too, if they only know about it; and, besides, I can get a present, if I send some new names to 'The Nursery' man."

Little Mamie was so urgent in her request, that her mother asked papa what he thought about it.

Papa said, "Oh, let her try if she wants to: it will do no harm." How the black eyes danced! and the little feet could hardly keep still, while mamma dressed her up very warmly, till she was just about as large one way as the other.

"Now, mamma, for my muff; and, oh! I must have a 'Nursery' to show." So, with a "Nursery" sticking out of one end of the little muff, this Mamie started on her errand. All the way along to Bessie's house, she kept saying, subscribe, subscribe, so that she might not make another mistake in the word.

She was gone but an hour, and returned with the names of six children, who were to be made glad each month by the visits of Mamie's friend.

Mamie was full of glee, and could hardly eat any supper, so anxious was she for her papa to send the names to Boston.

Well, they were all sent; and the six little friends have been made glad by receiving each a "Nursery" of her own; and next month they will be glad again, and so on for a whole year.

Did Mamie get a present? Oh, yes! She got a present from "The Nursery" man, which she values very highly.

Now, can you tell which little Mamie this is?

Mary Myrtle.

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The Nursery, May 1873, Vol. XIII.

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WHAT DEMPSEY IS PROUD OF

JENNY AND TIMOTHY WREN

WHAT MAMIE DID

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