Volume 19 — "PROUD AS A PEACOCK."

A DIALOGUE.

Laura.—Why is it, Rachel, that you wear that old winter dress to church, this fine spring morning? Look at me.

Rachel.—What a pretty silk! And what a becoming hat and plume!

Laura.—I gave my mother no peace till she got them for me. Why don't you make your father buy you a new spring dress, Rachel?

Rachel.—He would have given me such a dress, if I had not told him I should like something else better.

Laura.—Indeed! Pray, what else would you like better than a beautiful spring dress?

Rachel.—I knew that if my father gave me a silk dress this spring, he could not afford to let me take music-lessons: so I told him I would rather study music than have a new dress.

Laura.—What a silly girl, to prefer music-lessons to a nice new dress!

Rachel.—Hark! What is that harsh noise?

Laura.—It is the cry of that foolish peacock from the balcony of the garden yonder. He wants us to admire him.

Rachel.—How he struts about, and arches his neck, and shows his fine feathers, bright with all the colors of the rainbow!

Laura.—I would not change my canary-bird for him.

Rachel.—And I would not change my music for your new silk dress, Laura.

Laura.—Why do you say that? But, first, who is that man standing there by the garden-gate?

Rachel.—That is Mr. Blunt, the clergyman who is to preach for us to-day.

Laura.—He looks at me, and now he looks at the peacock, and now at me again, and now, with a smile, at the peacock, and now—O Rachel! this is too bad. I know what he is thinking of.

Rachel.—Let us hurry on to church. The bell has begun to toll.

Laura.—Ah, Rachel, he says to me, as plainly as looks can say, that I am as vain as yonder peacock.

Rachel.—Why, Laura, how you blush! Do you think you deserve such a reproof?

Laura.—I do, I do. Here, this Sunday morning, I have been thinking more of my new summer silk than of any thing else. Like that screeching peacock, I have been vain of my fine feathers. Yes, let us hurry on to church. One sermon I have had already. It was all given in a look.

Rachel.—You are quick to take a hint, I see.

Laura.—I hope I may be as quick to profit by it. "Pride shall have a fall," says the proverb; and my pride has fallen.

Rachel.—I shall not try to help it up, my dear.

Anna Livingston.