The chetah is then hooded, and led back to his cart. It is so easily tamed, and so gentle, that it is frequently led about the streets by a string for sale. It is rather larger than the leopard, and differs from it in the length of its paws, its inability to climb trees, and the crispness of its fur. It is, therefore, placed in a different genus from the leopard. Its technical or scientific name is Jubata, which it derives from a thin mane running down the neck.

NEW WAY OF CURING THIEVES.

EDITOR.

"Is Mr. John R. still living at Wallsend?" inquired a ship captain of a gentleman one day, as they were talking of business matters.

"O yes," replied the gentleman, "and he is still living in the same house, but is now failing much in health, being very old."

'Well,” replied the captain, "Mr. R. is a good man, and always was; and he was particularly kind to me. I can tell you a strange story about Mr. R. and myself, when I was a boy. When I was a little boy I lived at Wallsend, and another boy and I one Saturday night agreed to get into Mr. R.'s garden to get some apples. It was summer-time; so late at night we entered the garden, and supplied ourselves with apples. All was quiet, and we sat down under a tree to eat them, and, without being aware of it, from the warmth of the night we fell asleep. We knew nothing more until the morning, when Mr. R. was walking in his garden, and found us asleep beneath the tree, and aroused us. He knew what we had been about, but wondered at finding us asleep there. After inquiring what we had been about in his garden, we told him the truth; and he said promptly, 'Follow me.' We followed him, not daring to do any other; but expected that he was going to take us into the house to punish us. When we got into the house, he said to Mrs. R., ' Here, get these lads their breakfast, they have been out all night.' We got a good breakfast, and he then talked kindly to us, and took us with him to the Sundayschool, where we learned many good things; and through the Sunday-school and the preaching of the Gospel, to which I was introduced by Mr. R., I have learned my duty to both God and man. May God bless him evermore." W. B. LEIGHTON.

LOVE OF THE BIBLE.

As a gentleman, who takes great interest in Ragged-schools, was walking along a street in Newcastle one day, he saw a boy walking by his side, when he spoke kindly to him, and asked him who he was.

"Do you not know me, sir?" said the boy.

"No," replied the gentleman.

"I know you," said the boy, "and I belong to the Raggedschool; and, sir, I have a New Testament of my own now. I knew a boy who had a Testament, and who wanted to sell it for fourpence, and I thought I would like to have it, but I had only a penny, so I offered him the penny and a nice clasp knife that I had, which he took in exchange, and now I have a Testament of my own."

The gentleman told him he had acted wisely in possessing himself of the Testament, although at the cost of his knife; as the one, if read and attended to, would be more useful than the other. Which of our young readers would do likewise, and part with their most valued treasure, as the knife was to this poor boy, for a New Testament? Or, having a Testament or the Bible, do you read the same? "Search the Scripture." W. B. LEIGHTON.

WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A WAY.

IN an old street, called the Side, in Newcastle-on-Tyne, a gentleman was one day visiting amongst the poor people. He had ascended a high staircase one dark night, when coming to a room at the top he thought he heard a child's voice reading. He opened the door unperceived, and saw a little boy reading a book, without either candle or lamp, by the light of a very poor fire, on which his little sister, who sat by his side, was throwing pieces of wood to make a blaze, and as each piece was nearly burnt out, she threw a new piece on to keep up the flame, and still he read, and she listened attentively to the reading. What was the reading, and what was the little girl listening to? Not a useless song, a silly tale, nor about some lying wonder; but the New Testament of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. This was acquiring knowledge-the best of knowledge-under difficulties. W. B. LEIGHTON.

SNOW.

BEHOLD the pure feathery flakes of snow, how they fill the air and dance about in fantastic shapes, seeming at times like spirit-forms flitting wildly and swiftly by. How softly and noiselessly they fall, resting on everything alike, and clothing the earth in a mantle of pure white; falling on the lordly mansion, where luxury sits by a comfortable hearth, and on the meanest hovel, where the shivering creatures sit huddled together, with starvation written on their faces, and despair busy at their hearts. It falls, too, on the graves of rich and poor, infancy and manhood, filling up the inequalities about them with its soft white particles. And it may fall on your grave, too, dear child, sooner than you may think. O pray that your heart may be washed in the blood of Jesus, and be made white as snow, that you may be fit to dwell with Jesus, and His holy angels for ever and ever. How beautiful is this covering of snow for the earth in winter. It clothes for awhile the leafless boughs of the trees, softening the grimness of their skeleton forms. It is a thing of beauty; for what on earth is so white? Nothing. But there are things not of earthly origin, of which it is an emblem-the white robes that the redeemed in heaven wear, who came up out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Not the very whitest thing on earth can equal them. They will never wear out, but as centuries roll over the heads of their glorified wearers they will shine with new lustre and unfading beauty.

Let us all seek to be washed in the precious blood of Jesus, who has said, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as snow; and though they be red like crimson they shall be as wool:" and so fit ourselves for the glorious company of the redeemed in heaven, for the palm of victory, and for the spotless robes which will never decay, and which are whiter than snow. ANNE HAWKINS.

PRAY FOR THE SAILOR.

THE life of a sailor usually stops far short of that period commonly allotted to man. His occupation and habits shake his life-glass, and hurry out its sands. I never see one of them die without those feelings we experience in seeing a noble being extinguished before his time. He has

points of character that penetrate to your deepest sensibilities. You see him divide his last shilling with a penniless stranger-perilling his life for one who may perhaps never appreciate the self-sacrificing act-living to-day in gay forgetfulness of the evils which the morrow must bring -undergoing hardships, privations, and suffering, with an unclouded cheerfulness-and when death comes, resigning himself to it with a composure that completes the characteristics of his rude life. If any being full of errors, generous impulses, and broken resolves, may hope for mercy through Christ in his last account, it must be the poor sailor-the being whom temptations and suffering have visited in every form, whose scanty enjoyments have been snatched from the severest lot, and whose wild profession has placed him essentially beyond the reach of those redeeming influences to which every Christian community is indebted for its virtue and its hope of heaven. Sent by J. WYVILL.

THE BOY AND THE BEE.

LITTLE JOHNNY was just three years old. Of course he had seen very little of the world, and had very much to learn; so one warm, bright afternoon, while playing in the garden, he took a lesson, which he remembers yet: In the rich green grass a bright yellow dandelion caught his eye, but he did not notice a singular looking spot about the middle of the flower. That spot was nothing less than a merry honey-bee, which had come singing along through the air in search of honey and wax, and stopped to see if that flower had any for him. Quick went down that little fat hand, and back again it came as quickly, bringing in its grasp flower, bee, and all. The bee twisted his little body round, and sent his sharppoisoned sting deep into Johnny's hand. And now didn't that little hand let go in a hurry-and didn't nurse hear a scream from Johnny's lungs; and while she ran to the aid of the suffering child, the bee gathered itself up, and set off. But the sting had not only marked Johnny's hand, but had written this lesson in his memory,-that sometimes very pretty things have very sharp stings. Wine looks very pretty in the glass; but the Bible says that if we become fond of drinking it, "it will bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder." Sin often looks very inviting; but the Bible tells us that "the sting of death is sin." A little boy once asked

his mother for a peach. She asked him if he had not already eaten one? To get another he told a lie, and said, "No." But after he went to bed that lie stung him so that he was afraid to go to sleep till he had called his mother, confessed his sin, and asked her pardon. I hope my young readers will remember, that sometimes very pretty things have very sharp stings. Sent by O. 0. W.

GOOD AND BAD APPLES.

One day Robert's father saw him playing with some boys who were rude and unmannerly. He had observed for some time a change for the worse in his son; and now he knew the cause he was very sorry, but he said nothing to Robert at the time. In the evening he brought from the garden six beautiful rosy-cheeked apples, put them on a plate, and presented them to Robert. He was much pleased at his father's kindness, and thanked him. "You must lay them aside for a few days, that they may become mellow," said the father; and Robert cheerfully placed the plate with the apples in his mother's store-room. Just as he was putting them aside his father laid on the plate a seventh apple, which was quite rotten, and desired him to allow it to remain there. But, father," said Robert, "The rotten apple will spoil all the others." "Do you think so? Why should not the fresh apples rather make the rotten one fresh?" said the father. And with these words he shut the door of the room. Eight days afterwards he asked his son to open the door, and take out the apples. But what a sight presented itself. The six apples, which had been so sound and rosy-cheeked, were now quite rotten, and spread a bad smell through the room. "O, papa," cried he, "did I not tell you that the rotten apple would spoil the good ones? Yet you did not seem to listen to me." My boy," said the father, "I have told you often that the company of bad children will make you bad. Yet you do not listen to See in the condition of the apples that which will happen to you, if you keep company with wicked boys." Robert did not forget the lesson. When any of his former playfellows asked him to join in their sports, he thought of the rotten apples, and kept himself apart from them. Sent by O. O. W.

me.