Strange Visitors

in the afternoon, when my hour of recreation came, I brushed my hair carefully, changed my dr

carriage on the gravel path; then the gay voice of Mr. Richard met my ear. I turned: he was seated in the vehicle with a valise

eamed through the railing, and lit up the floor of the piazza. Sitting there I was bathed in its ruddy flood. Happy birds poured forth

and beheld the elder Mr. Bristed. He had evidently observed my emo

as to the progress my pupil was making. Having satisfied him on

hoping to place a barrier to any

weeping," said he,

ed to have the truth out; "but I fear I h

careful! Young birds should avoid the glittering steel of the fowler. But youth will seek its own experience," he remarked, with a deep sigh

reply, he hastily left