all Woodmerton: they shan't come and triumph over me now though, for I'll shut my door on all of them.'

And she did shut and lock her cottagedoor, sinking exhausted into a chair afterwards, and turning restlessly over and over a bit of paper which she held in her hand. The sexton had given it to her; it had been tied on that white wreath which some one had sent to her house that afternoon. Mary had twisted it almost into tatters before she saw there was writing on it, and then she smoothed it out and read the words, 'From one who loved Louie, and who loves you.'

She knew Miss Flora's writing, and the sentence touched her. Aye, that's true! she did love my Louie, and she always had a kind word for me-not just hard advice like Miss Jemima. But she might have been to see me these last days.'

And then Mary's hard thoughts came back again, but they did not stay long. She grew restless, and opened the cottagedoor. The shower-clouds still overcast half the sky, but the moon was bright. She drew her shawl round her and stepped out, though the air made her shiver.

'Loves me, does she?' Mary muttered. 'Bad that I am, if only I was sure of it I think my head wouldn't feel so queer; she'd tell it me plainer if I went to her.' And only half knowing what she was doing, Mary made her way over the stile into the meadows, towards the Morrisons' house.

Flora was surprised to see the dark figure standing by her low window, but in a second she knew it was poor Mary, and drew her into the room with soft words of comfort.

'You're all alone, are you?' asked Mary; 'none of them servants, nor Miss Jemima ?' 'Quite alone,' said Flora. Come in, Mary, and tell me about your little darling.'

Then she spoke no word of reproof or advice, but just shed quiet tears for the

And Flora got up and kissed the rough woman, who had once been young and gentle, and good too. As for poor Mary Trapp, she was quite won over; but worn out with grief, and fasting and watching, she could say nothing, and only sank down sobbing in her wretchedness and repentance.

gentle, and good too.

Flora stole out of the room, locking the door behind her to keep intruders away, and quickly got a cup of tea from her own room, and then she roused poor Mary and gave her the tea, and bade her hope for the future. And Mary went home comforted, and resolved to begin life anew.

'My dear,' said Miss Jemima to Floral the next Sunday, 'was that really Mary Trapp I saw sitting in the dark corner by

the west door? I do believe it was, and that my words of reproof have sunk into her heart. I hear, too, from Litton that she has begun work again, and has taken all the washing for the College School. Well, if she keeps steady this may be the beginning of a new life for her. One must never despair, but rebuke even those that seem most hardened. I shall desire Litton to take her a new linsey petticoat, and I will give her the run of the copse for sticks for her fire. That will help a little, and show good feeling.'

I'll take the petticoat, auntie, and the message about the sticks, and thank you. Poor Mary is trying to do better, as you think,' said Flora, who could hardly help smiling at Aunt Jemima's pride in what she thought was the result of her treatment of Mary Trapp. In her heart Flora thinks that love more than fear, sympathy rather than scolding, has won this poor wanderer back into better and safer paths. H. A. F. MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE EAST.

a large bottle is wanted, they take the skin of an ox and sew it together at the edges, leaving an opening at one end till the bottle is full, and then they tie it up. Smaller bottles are made of goat-skins: these bottles are used to carry water, milk, and sometimes wine. In some parts of the Holy Land there is not much water, so that the people are very careful of it. The bottle of water which Abraham gave to Hagar when she was going away from him was most likely made of skin.

A BATTLE AND A VICTORY.

BOY, on first leaving home, had a companion who said no prayers in his room. The first night the boy did not know what to do. Satan whispered, You can pray in your heart, without seeming to pray outwardly, God will hear it as well; or you can pray after you have gone to bed, and then no one will see you, and

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it will be all the same: it is not needful to pray on your knees.' But that boy had been. taught by a kind mother, now in her grave, to kneel by his bedside, and he could not think of giving it up now; and besides, he felt that that would be to be ashamed of his religion and his God. That night he got out of the difficulty by waiting till his neighbour was in bed and asleep, and then he knelt and prayed as he had been used to do. Next night he got first to his room, and being alone, he knelt down. While so engaged, he heard his comrade's foot upon the stair, and hesitated what to do. The wicked one suggested, Get up: he'll see you and laugh at you, and you'll never hear the end of it.' His better feelings said, 'No, pray on.' It was the turningpoint in his life. The door opened, he continued praying;-it was a real victory, and while he lived he thanked God for it. The battle was fought on his knees, as in such a case it often is. It was the hardest battle he ever fought: he conquered, and after it he had peace. I wish this could be said of every boy and girl, and every grown-up person too. Whether living at home, or in service, or in lodgings, or among strangers, when thus tempted remember that brave boy, and never be ashamed to pray to God.- Children's Paper.