Mrs. Green looked with admiration at her sister, and said, "Dear me, but do hear how he talks!"

"There are six classes of living creatures," said Henry, being encouraged by Mrs. Green: "first, those which feed their young ones with milk, such as cows, and dogs, and cats, and bats, and rats, and sheep and then there is the second class, aves; that is, birds: and the third, amphibia; and the fourth, pisces, fish; and the fifth, insects; and the sixth, vermes, or worms. Now, Mrs. Green, you must not despise worms; for you know that when we are full of sin we are no better than worms."

"There again," said Mrs. Green; "what words are those to come out of the mouth of such a babe! is not it wonderful! Did you ever hear the like of this?"

Mrs. Kitty was pleased that Henry should be able to do himself so much credit before Mrs. Green; however, she had prudence enough to say, "You know, sister, that he does not find out these things of his own head, but that it is master who teaches him; and then, you know, it is no wonder if he knows more than we do."

"Oh, but!" said Mrs. Green, "it is a wonder how such a young creature should be able to keep all these things in his head, and speak them so properly as he does."

By this time the young gentleman was become so conceited that he could not sit still; and so having eaten and drank as much as he could conveniently swallow, he got up, stalked about the room, and then went out into the garden, having received an injunction not to go beyond the quick-hedge. Thus, little master, being in a manner let loose, knew not what to be about next, in order to spend his spirits. The first thing he did was to pursue Mrs. Green's ducks round the house, calling out, "Quack, quack, quack," as they waddled before him, until they made their escape through the bottom of the hedge into the next field: he then espied an old owl hid in a tree; this owl was a pet of Mrs. Dolly, Mrs. Green's younger daughter. He was of an irongray colour, having his eyes covered over with a kind of film, which he had power to draw over them when the light of day was too strong for them; for these creatures are formed for flying about in the night, and committing plunder upon their harmless neighbours.

As soon as Master Henry observed this owl in the tree, he began to call to him, making a low bow, and saying, "Your servant, old gentleman; your wig is well powdered, and your nose is exactly fit for a pair of spectacles." The owl, however, being well accustomed to the human voice, took no manner of notice of Henry; whereupon he began to pick up sods to throw at him, which was very cruel sport, as he might have severely hurt the poor creature by so doing: however, as he did not aim very exactly, the sods did not reach the owl; so, being soon tired of this fruitless sport, he looked round again for something to amuse him; and seeing a ladder set against the side of the house, he climbed up it, and scrambling along the sloping thatch, he reached the very highest part of the roof, astride which he set himself, and trying to fancy that the house was an elephant, he pretended to be urging it forward, as if it were actually moving.

In this manner the evening passed away, and Mrs. Kitty preparing to go home, bethought herself of Henry, and sent her nieces to call him. And now Master Henry being mounted at the top of the house, had the pleasure of hearing himself called for, and saw Mrs. Betty and Mrs. Dolly running here and there in quest of him; neither of them thinking of looking for him where he really was. This pleased Master Henry mightily, and he kicked his elephant, and rode away famously in his own conceit.

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When Mrs. Green's daughters returned to the house, they excited such an alarm, that out came Mrs. Kitty and Mrs. Green, calling Master Henry so loud, that they might be heard a quarter of a mile distant. In answer to which noise, Henry joined crying, “O! O! Henry Milner, where are you? Where are you, sir? Don't you hear the people call you?" At the sound of his voice, the women all looked up together, exclaiming, "O, Master Milner! you little rogue! how you have frightened us; and how did you get up there? and how are you to get down, you naughty boy? I declare you have frightened me almost out of my life."

Master Henry, however, did not find much trouble in getting down; and Mrs. Kitty, having brushed the bits of dry thatch off from his coat, they set off towards home, Mrs. Green and her daughters accompanying them part of the way.

Mrs. Green proposed that they should return by a different path from that by which they had come; and accordingly they turned down a long narrow lane, at the end of which was a little brook, which they were to cross by a narrow wooden bridge. Master Henry was as rude in the lane as you please, though Mrs. Kitty continued from time to time calling to him to remember himself, and to behave himself, saying that she would be sure to tell his uncle how unlucky he had been.

There is, however, a kind of inefficient scolding which is sure to make the object thereof more unruly than before; and this was precisely the kind of scolding which Mrs. Kitty chose to adopt on this occasion; in consequence of which the young gentleman became so very rude, that Mrs. Kitty at length grew angry, and attempting to catch hold of the naughty boy, he ran down the lane, got upon the wooden bridge aforementioned, and stood jumping upon it with all his might; on seeing this, Mrs. Green screamed, Mrs. Kitty scolded, Mrs. Betty called, and Mrs. Dolly ran forward with all speed; nevertheless, all their efforts to prevent mischief proved vain. The plank broke in the very centre, and Master Milner came tumbling into the brook, bringing the bridge down with him. The water was not indeed very deep, but there was enough of it to wet the little boy to the knees as he stood up; but as he fell with the bridge, though not otherwise hurt, he was covered with mud and moisture up to his shoulders.

Mrs. Kitty was now thoroughly vexed and frightened: however, she and her nieces soon contrived to pull the little boy out of the water, and passing over the brook as well as they could, some of the party made the best of their way towards home.

Mr. Dalben was walking in his garden, when Mrs. Kitty and her younger niece appeared, leading Master Henry between them; for Mrs. Green and her elder daughter had gone back.

The whole party were handsomely bedaubed with mud, and Mrs. Kitty was looking not a little disconcerted, neither was Master Milner altogether in quite such high spirits as when explaining his six classes to Mrs. Green and her daughters.

"Why, Kitty," said Mr. Dalben, "what is the matter? Where have you all been? Henry, my boy, what can

you possibly have been about? have you been improving your acquaintance with the amphibia ?"

"O sir!" said Mrs. Kitty, "Master Henry would not mind what I said to him; and he broke down the bridge, sir; and he has been in the brook."

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Well, well," said Mr. Dalben, "you must not blame me; I told you how it would be: but make all possible haste now; get his clothes off and his bed warmed, and I will come in a few minutes with something for him to drink."

All this while Henry said not a word; but being speedily stripped and put into a warm bed, he lay quietly, expecting the arrival of his uncle, with that which was to be taken inwardly, which he greatly feared might prove a dose of no agreeable nature; but, as I have made my chapter long, I shall close it in this place, and give an account in my next of Mr. Dalben's visit to Henry's bedside, with sundry other particulars.

CHAPTER XII.

Containing a Conversation between Mr. Dalben and Henry; with a Visit to the Gardener.

MR. DALBEN Soon returned to Henry with something for him to drink; it was warm; but, although it had a bitter taste, Henry did not refuse to receive it, but swallowed it without hesitation; for he was conscious that he had behaved ill and deserved punishment. After Henry had taken what Mr. Dalben offered to him, Mr. Dalben sat down by his bedside, and entered into discourse with him.

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Henry," said Mr. Dalben, "you have behaved ill today."

Henry was silent.

"Be sincere with me, Henry; am I not right? Have not you behaved ill this evening ?" repeated Mr. Dalben. "I have, uncle," said Henry.

"I expected it would be so," said Mr. Dalben, "because, when you set out, you were very conceited, very full of yourself, and perfectly assured that you

should do well.

Old as I am, Henry, if I were to go out any day in such a state of mind, I should certainly do something very ridiculous, or perhaps very wicked, before I returned."

"Oh! uncle," said Henry, astonished at this remark, "I am sure you could never be either wicked or foolish."

"Then you do not suppose,” said Mr. Dalben, “that I am a child of Adam, but perhaps some angel come down from Heaven ?"

"No, uncle," said little Henry, "I do not think that you are an angel."

"And yet," said Mr. Dalben," you think that if I were to become conceited, I should not do foolish things." "But, uncle,” said Henry, "you would not be conceited."

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Why not?" said Mr. Dalben; "why should I not be proud and conceited as well as you have not I as much to make me proud as you have?"

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Yes, uncle," said Henry, "a great deal more; but you are wise, and I am foolish."

"You have not yet found out the reason wherefore I am not conceited, Henry," said Mr. Dalben. "It is not because I am really wiser than you are; but because I have been led to see, by frequent and repeated experience, that I cannot do well without help from God. I have indeed often told you the same thing, and assured you, that from day to day, from hour to hour, from one minute to another, you cannot conduct yourself properly, unless upheld by God; or which, at your age,is the same thing, without being guarded by the watchful care of him who stands in the same relation to you as your heavenly Father; namely, your paternal friend: but this truth has not yet sunk into your heart; and, notwithstanding all that you have heard on this subject, you are ever ready to depart from this friend, and set up for behaving well, in your own proper strength; and this, dear boy, is the cause of the disgrace into which you fall, whenever you leave me.'

66 Uncle," ," said Henry, "I will not ask to go out without you another time. Indeed, uncle, I am always most happy when I am with you, and when I never leave your side. Dear uncle, do not give me leave," continued the little boy," to go out without you again.' So saying, he