Harry is a little boy six years old. He always wants to be doing something; and many funny pictures he makes, both on his slate and with a lead pencil on paper. Mamma saves all the blank pieces of paper she can to give him. When he is tired of pictures, he plays with his blocks, and makes boats, and cars and bridges, and towers and churches.

Harry lives on the west bank of the Mississippi River, where there is a bridge right in sight from his home. He often watches the cars go across the bridge, and the boats go through the draw. He is an observing little fellow, and he notices that just before the cars get to the bridge they stop, and then go over very slowly. Then they start up faster and faster; and soon the bridge is left behind, and the cars are out of sight.

The cars always have to wait for the boats to go through the bridge; and Harry thinks that is too bad; for the cars would not keep the boats waiting half as long as the boats keep them. So mamma tells him that the river was there first, and the boats have the first right.

But about the present. There had been a week of rain; but papa's birthday was pleasant, and Harry was glad to get out of doors. He ran till he was tired, and then, as he sat down to rest, he thought he would get some clay, and make something to show mamma.

So he began. First he made a round ball like a marble, then a larger ball; then he put them together, and thought, "I will make a man, and this little ball shall be his head." He put a stick in to hold the head to the body, and put clay around the stick, and that made the neck. Then he made a long piece for the legs, and cut out between them with a knife to form two. Then he made the arms, and joined them to the body.

He was very much pleased with his work so far; but to complete it was the most fun. He got little stones, and stuck them into the clay for eyes, nose, and buttons; made a cut for the mouth; and, for a head-dress, made use of the green spikes from a pine-tree. This made the figure look so much like an Indian, that Harry danced with joy.

Then he took it to mamma, who was so pleased that she told him to put it on papa's study-table to dry, and said that it would do for papa's birthday present.

Papa thinks so much of it, that he has locked it up in his curiosity cabinet. This is a true story.