and on certain occasions the favourite cow has the finest and largest bell, and also the gayest trappings. Others have smaller bells and collars less ornamented, unless they reach the point at which no distinction is made. Strange as it may seem, to deprive the cows of their usual decorations is severely to punish them. They feel it grievously, and in this state utter piteous lowings.

On certain days a kind of procession takes place. The herdsman leads the van, and next in order comes the favourite cow, leading the herd, ornamented with her tinkling bells and gay apparel. Should another, from any cause, be made to take her place, she shows her vexation by continual lowings, refuses food, and attacks the one that bears her honours.

One cow that had long been thus honoured, was, on one occasion, thought too weak to take her usual place, and even the common bell was thought too heavy for her. The procession moved on, but she did not share in the general joy. After a few steps she faltered in her pace; the attendants tried to coax her on, but in vain; she stopped and laid down, as if to die. An old herdsman

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soon guessed the cause. He brought from the house a bell and collar, such as the cow had often been used to bear; and no sooner did she feel them on her neck, than she rose from the ground, bounded gaily, took her place in the van, and was at once quite well.

What the exact feeling of this animal was it is difficult to determine. If it was a love of finery, it was one constantly discoverable among those gifted with reason, but always showing that reason is not allowed to act as it ought. Look, for instance, at the noble figures, whose dark skins prove that they belong to an African tribe, as they roam in their native wilds. That young chief is begrimed from head to foot with red paint, and his wife has her hair all matted together with grease, while around her neck is a necklace formed of the entrails of animals; and yet, as they are now in their best attire, they think they are very fine.

But we may turn to others nearer home. Look, again, at that May-day procession. See those human beings, three-fourths dirty and one-fourth clean, adorned with various colours, all bedizened with gilt and tinsel, dancing about the green, which is borne

wherever they go: they also think they are very fine.

And often we may observe others, whose gaudy hues and ill-assorted clothes show that the same feeling is at work. It may be, that so glaring is their attire, that the passers by cannot fail to notice them, while each one says to himself as he turns away, "They think they are very fine."

And they only think so; all who judge wisely hold a very different opinion. Nor is this all; the lovers of finery are not only despised by others, but they are often in danger of great evils. It has frequently appeared that the young have committed theft to gratify their passion for fine clothes, and from the same feeling, crimes have been perpetrated which have been punished with death. And when these evils do not arise, others 66 may. Buy what you do not want," says the proverb, " and you will soon have to sell what you cannot spare." When one young person complained to another that her money went too fast, while her friend, receiving less money, always had more, the latter replied, "I make it a rule never to spend anything in 'tis buts.""

On the

meaning of this phrase being asked, the reply was, "I constantly hear people say, 'I should like this and that, 'tis but threepence,' or "'tis but fourpence,' or 'tis but sixpence,' and thus their money oozes away in drops. Never spend your money in "tis buts!""

Wise and kind parents will dress their children not finely, but well. They will give them light clothes in summer, and nice thick warm ones in winter. The attire of children, too, will be according to their station in life. They will be taught that finery is not comfort or respectability; it is often the contrary of both; and that clothes of good materials, and simple in their shape, are always becoming. When the celebrated Dr. Franklin was in France, his daughter, who was in America, wrote to him for feathers and lace; he replied, that "if she wore her ruffles as long as he wore his, she would have lace, and that she might obtain feathers from any fine bird on which she could lay her hands." I should be surprised if she ever asked for them again.

Think, then, my young friends, rightly of dress; whence indeed are the costliest garments obtained? From the plumage of