hard to read the writing. Now here was a strange thing,—the writing was read by some, but as they had not the lantern they did not read it correctly; or if by any means they made out the words, they seemed not to profit by them. This was the reason, they read them in the wrong light; for the lamps they had in the broad road did not. give the clear bright light of the lantern that the good Man at the stream gave them. I should tell you that the good Man at the stream had many names, but when we speak of him again we shall call him Lucas, which means Light-giving. Now almost all those who were fencing with the staves that Lucas had given them, and those who were quarrelling about them and reading the writing wrongly, were much older than Iva. The children in the broad road very seldom used the staves at all, and some of the older persons had even burnt theirs. Iva, however, did not throw his away at first, but as many of his companions laughed at him for carrying it, he at last threw it down by the roadside, and the dust made by his noisy and boisterous companions hid it from his sight.

We must now leave Iva a short time, and go in search of the other three children. But I must tell you, that directly the deceiver saw Iva safely in the broad road and without his lamp he went after Amana, Bithiah, and Clauda. In a moment he overtook them, and called out in his softest tones, 'Good morning, dear children; you are walking very quickly along this hard and toilsome road, you must be quite tired: : come with me and rest. I have a beautiful cottage close by; the table is spread with all kinds of good things: turn in with me and refresh yourselves.'

Now Amana and Bithiah suspected the man at once, and thought he must be an enemy to Lucas, because He told them

they were not to turn aside to the right hand or to the left, but to continue their journey. Besides, He had told them the places where they were to stay and refresh themselves. Like good and wise children they refused to turn in with the man, and looking at him by the light of their lanterns they at once saw that he was an enemy. Then they held their staves to the lantern, and found written on each the same words, The lust of the flesh,' and they knew that that was one of the things they were told to avoid. They therefore refused to have anything to say to him, but went on their way with firm hearts, and leaning on their staves they walked along with renewed strength. But poor Clauda, who was a few steps behind, for her foot pained her, did not fare so well as her companions.

THE BASKET OF STRAWBERRIES.

OME years ago there lived in a little

SON

village in the North of England a maiden lady, of the name of Trueman. She was not very old, and was a great favourite with all her nephews and nieces, who frequently came and paid her long visits. At the time that I am writing of, her little niece, Lucy, had just come to spend some weeks with her aunt; and as it was the lovely month of July, she hoped to enjoy herself very much in the hay-fields. Two or three weeks went by pleasantly, and Lucy thought that she had never been so happy in her life before; when one evening, as she was walking in the garden with her aunt, they passed the strawberry-bed. Lucy was about to gather some of the fruit, but her aunt stopped her by saying, 'Do not gather any strawberries to-night, Lucy, as I wish to send away all that are ripe tomorrow morning.'

'Very well, aunt,' said Lucy, and walked on, but she felt very vexed that her aunt had forbidden her to pick the strawberries.

Surely I might have picked a few?' said she to herself; there are a great many berries on the plants, and I only wanted two or three.'

Thus reasoned this naughty little girl, and before the evening was over she had fully persuaded herself that she was very unkindly treated, and that Aunt Harriet was the crossest aunt that ever yet existed. Now you will very likely think that Lucy was a very wicked child, to let such a trifle put her in a bad temper, but you must remember that we have all an evil nature, that strives against the grace that God gives us in our Baptism; and so it was no wonder that Lucy was naughty, for she forgot just then to pray to Jesus, and to ask Him to make her a good child.

The following morning our little friend woke up in a much better humour, and felt quite pleased when, after breakfast, Miss Trueman asked her to help her to gather a basket of strawberries. When the pretty little basket was quite full, Miss Trueman said to her niece, Now, Lucy dear, I want to carry this basket to you Mrs. poor Brown's, where you went with me yesterday; and tell her that the fruit is for her daughter.'

'Am I to go by myself, aunt?' said Lucy, for she had always lived in a town, where it was not considered safe for children of her age to go about alone.

"Yes, dear,' replied Miss Trueman; 'you will be ten years old next week, and Mrs. Brown does not live far from here. You are not afraid to go alone, are you, dear?'

'Oh, no, I should like it,' said Lucy. 'Well, then, you had better go at once, and be sure you carry the fruit carefully.'

Lucy walked down the garden-path very steadily, and set off down the lane; she had not gone very far, when a slight gust of wind lifted up one of the cool green leaves, with which the fruit was covered, and brought into full view a large ripe red strawberry. Lucy looked at it longingly; she knew that she ought to cover it up, and go on as quickly as she could; but it did look so very tempting, that she stood gazing at it until her mouth watered. Presently she lifted up another leaf, to see if there were any more strawberries as large as the one that she had first seen. Yes, there were plenty more quite as large, if not larger. Lucy could no longer withstand the temptation, and she popped one of the ripest and best into her mouth. It tasted very good, and was before long followed by a second, and indeed a third. These were so very nice that Lucy ate several more, and then, in less time than

it takes me to write it, the basket was emptied of all its contents, except a few very small strawberries that lay at the bottom. Then Lucy looked at the basket in rather a frightened manner. What could she do now? she thought: she could not take the few that were left to Mrs. Brown. What was to be done?

At last she decided that she would go home, and keep out of her aunt's way as much as possible. When she got back, she went straight into the house, and going to her own little room she took up a book and tried to read, but somehow she could not fix her attention on the book, and throwing it down, she took her crochet, and worked away until the dinner-bell rang; then she went downstairs, though she dreaded meeting her aunt.

'Well, Lucy,' said Mrs. Trueman, as her niece entered the dining-room, where have you been since you came home?'

'I have been up in my own room, aunt,' replied Lucy; it was so hot out of doors.'

'Yes, it is a very warm day,' said Miss Trueman; how is Mrs. Brown's daughter?' 'I really did not ask, aunt,' replied Lucy, hesitatingly.

'Dear me, that was very thoughtless of you, Lucy,' said Miss Trueman; 'never mind though, I shall be walking that way myself this afternoon, and I will go in and inquire how the poor girl is then.'

Lucy's heart gave a great throb at hearing this, for she thought that her aunt would be sure to ask how the sick woman had liked the strawberries, and then the truth would come out.

'Will you go with me this afternoon, Lucy?' said Miss Trueman, when they had dined.

'No, thank you, aunt, I have a headache, and I would like to go and lie down,' replied Lucy.

'Then do so, dear,' said Miss Trueman. Lucy went upstairs, and throwing herself on the little bed wept bitterly, not for the sin that she had committed, but because she feared her aunt's anger: at last she cried herself to sleep, and asleep her aunt found her when she entered the room an hour later.

'Poor child!' said Miss Trueman softly; 'I must try and make you sensible of your fault, but I will not wake you.'

Lucy, however, awoke at the minute, and stared around; in a few seconds she collected her thoughts, and on seeing Miss Trueman she hid her face in the pillows.

'Lucy dear, come here,' said her aunt, in a tone that the child dared not disobey. I have been to see Mrs. Brown, Lucy,' Miss Trueman continued, and was very much surprised to hear from her, that neither you nor any strawberries have been there to-day; and more than that, Lucy, I noticed that there were a quantity of strawberry-stems thrown on the ground, which makes me fear that my little Lucy has been a thief, and has also told a lie to hide the theft.'

Lucy burst into tears, and gently sobbed out, 'Oh yes, aunt, I did do it; but please do not be angry, please forgive me!'

'You have my forgiveness, dear child,' said Miss Trueman gently, but I want you to ask God to forgive you for having sinned so against Him.'

Miss Trueman continued talking to her little niece for some time, and afterwards she knelt down with her, and begged her heavenly Father's forgiveness.

I am glad to be able to add, that Lucy was never guilty of a similar sin again; and when in after years she had grown to womanhood, and had little ones of her own, she often told them the story of 'The Basket of Strawberries.'