A dead dog lay by the wayside, and every one that passed along flung some offensive epithet at him.

Eastern dogs are not like our dogs, and seemingly there was nothing good about this loathsome creature, but as our Saviour went by, he said, gently, 'Pearls cannot equal the whiteness of his teeth.'" "What was the name of that old fellow," said Mr.Maxwell, abruptly, "who had a beautiful swan that came every day for fifteen years, to bury its head in his bosom and feed from his hand, and would go near no other human being ?" "Saint Hugh, of Lincoln.

We heard about him at the Band of Mercy the other day," said Miss Laura.
"I should think that he would have wanted to have that swan in heaven with him," said Mr.Maxwell.

"What a beautiful creature it must have been.

Speaking about animals going to heaven, I dare say some of them would object to going, on account of the company that they would meet there.