'who makes the leaf to grow?' and we learn that it is God; and thus from observing, and admiring, and loving what he has made, we learn to know, to love and to adore Him who is the Maker of all.

THE FATAL NEW YEAR'S GIFT.

It was new year's day, and a beautiful sunshiny morning, when Mr Brown, a respectable farmer of sat down to hreakfast, at his little round table, with his wife and three children, one son and two daughters. The glow of happiness, innocence, and health, in their countenances, as they wished each other a happy new year, was almost as bright as the light of the early sun on the tops of the snowy hills that surrounded their peaceful dwelling.

Well, wife,' said Mr Brown, ' neighbor Smith and I are going to Boston today, in his sleigh, and I must get you a new year's gift; what should you like?'

I should like anything that you gave me,' answered his wife; but I cannot think of anything I want, excepting a pair of new wool cards; my cards have lost a great many of their teeth, and I really do want another pair.'

'Poh,' said her husband, 'I want to get

something particularly for yourself. All you want the cards for, is to card the wool for mine and the children's stockings; but women are always wanting little gimcracks, and what should you fancy?'

'Let me see,' said his wife; I should like a new chopping knife.'

A droll sort of a gimcrack,' said Mr Brown; but that's just like you Betsey; if I were to ask you for a month what you would have, you would only say pot-hooks or trammels, or some such sort of things, and never think of a new gown or a new bonnet, or the like of that, and would be willing to wear the same things year in and year out, and buy wool-cards and chopping knives with your money if you had any, and you have no notion at all of being smart; Mrs Smith always cuts you out at meeting.'

C But, William,' said Mrs Brown, my bonnet is still clean and tidy, and you said last Sunday it was very becoming, and though it was old fashioned, you liked it better than some of the new fangled things, stuck upon the back of folks' heads, and bobbing about, that we see now-a-days.'

'As for that,' said Mr Brown,' the reason

I suppose that I think you look well in that old bonnet, is, that when you put it on, it is almost always to go to meeting; and you have such a pleased look, when the two girls and Charles and I, are ready to go with you to hear our good minister, that it makes you handsome enough for me any way; but if you will not tell me anything you want, why I'll get something to suit myself, and here's Mr Smith at the door, so good bye.'

The sun had set, and the clear, cold moonlight shone upon the beautiful wreaths of snow that hung upon the stone walls, and barberry bushes around the house, Nancy and Betsey Brown were watching for their father at the windows, and Mrs Brown was frying some cakes, and getting supper ready for her husband, when the jingle of the bells on the top of the hill, near the house was heard, and in a minute he was with them, and rubbing his little girl's ears, as he said, to warm his hands. Charles, who had been coasting, came running into the house as soon as he heard his father

come home. 'It's grand coasting father, and I hated to leave it,' said he;' but I know you have got us something for a new year's gift.' He took out a book for each of them, and

said he thought they would all like a book best, for they could change and each read the other's; so it was to each one as good as having three. They all said they liked a book best, and were as happy as good and innocent children ought to be. Mrs Brown said to her husband, "Well, I'm glad to see you safe home again; you had better come and warm yourself,' and went on getting supper ready for him. Soon the words

Supper's ready,' were heard from all, and they gathered round the little table again. 'Well wife,' said Mr Brown, you've not asked for your new year's gift.'

'Have you got the cards?' said she.

Why yes, I have,' said he, because yours are worn out; but not for your new year's gift. I have got something else, come guess what?' 'Perhaps,' said she, it is a new tea-pot; ours is a little oldish.'

6

Fiddle,' says he, you'll never guess; I must tell you. Neighbor Smith stopped at a place where they sell lottery tickets, to get one for his wife. I thought he was silly at first; but afterwards he seemed quite reasonable, when I heard him talk about it. He said he could afford to let his wife lose five dollars, and not mind it much; that there could be no