SOME boys and girls talk without thinking. The habit is a bad one, and when formed is very difficult to overcome. Did the readers ever hear a boy or girl attempt to tell something and fail? A great many words were used, but they were almost meaningless. What was the trouble? That boy or girl did not think. Think, children, before you speak, just what you want to say, and then say it in the plainest manner possible.

A boy whom I met a few days ago furnished a good example of this careless manner of talking. When I asked him the question, "Where is Dubois Street?" he replied, "You go right up this street, and keep going till oh, it's a good l-o-n-g way. 

When you get up to Mr. 'S big barn"

 "I don't know where the barn is," said I. 

"Well, I guess it is as much as half a mile up," returned the boy. 

A bright-eyed little fellow, who evidently had been thinking, stood listening to us. Interrupting the first boy and addressing me he said, "Mister, it is the third street above here, but don't count this one," pointing to the one in which he stood. "Oh, yes," said the first boy, "it is the third street." 

I could understand that.  What was the difference between the two boys? One difference was, the first boy, who tried to tell me about the street, was sixteen, while the little fellow who did tell me was not more than ten years old. But there was a greater difference than that. 

The first boy began to answer my question before I had fairly finished asking it, but he talked without thinking, and therefore said nothing definite. The second boy said something plain, that any one could understand, because he thought.

I hope the readers will learn to think. Think, when you read of what you read. Think, before you speak, of what you want to say. Think when you play, and don't do wrong. Think, THINK, THINK.



A LITTLE girl, looking at the picture of a number of ships, exclaimed, "See what a flock of ships!" We corrected her by saying that a flock of ships is called a fleet, and a fleet of sheep is called a flock; and here we may add, for the benefit of the foreigner who is mastering the intricacies of our language in respect to nouns of multitude, that a flock of wolves is called a pack, and a pack of thieves is called a gang, and a gang of angels is called a host, and a host of porpoises is called a shoal, and a shoal of buffaloes is called a troop, and a troop of partridges is called a covey, and a covey of beauties is called a galaxy, and a galaxy of ruffians is called a horde, and a horde of rubbish is called a heap, and a heap of oxen is called a drove, and a drove of blackguards is called a mob, and a mob of respectables is called a congregation, and a congregation of engineers is called a corps, and a corps of robbers is called a band, and a band of locusts is called a swarm, and a swarm of people is called a crowd, and a crowd of gentlefolk is called the elite, and a miscellaneous crowd of city folk is called the community or the public. 

—San Francisco News.