THE SHIPS THAT WENT SAILING

OVER THE SEA.

NCE I had a dream, and this is what it was about.

I was in a very beautiful country. Of

course it was not England; for what would have been the use of dreaming about one's own country? But still, this country was not at all different from England, except in one thing, which I will tell you about presently. It had large towns and many men, and beautiful woods and fields. And the sea was round it on every side, so that it was an island like England. And it was full of people, who were very busy buying and selling, building houses, making railroads, ploughing the fields, and planting the gardens. It was wonderful to see how busy they were, and how much work they got through. Even the little children seemed quite as busy as the grown-up people, for they had a great many lessons to learn-quite as many as you have; and when they were not learning their lessons they were just as busy over their play.

But besides all the work that the grownup people did, and the amount of lessons and play that the children got through, they each had something else to do, and this was a very remarkable thing indeed.

Every man and woman and every little child had a ship of their own, and they were obliged to fill this ship by a very strict law, which was made by their King, and which nobody could possibly help obeying. His law was that every ship should be laden with-what do you think? why, with gold! And then it was to sail

away over the sea on a long, long voyage, from which it would never come back any more, but at the end of the voyage (so the King told the people) they would come, if they had the golden cargo, to a country which was so beautiful that even He did not know how to tell them of its exceeding beauty. He could not describe it to them. He could only tell them that they had never seen anything at all like it, and that when they once got there all their hard, disagreeable work would be quite over. And they would be happier than the happiest children who go out to play after having done their lessons well. Now, at first sight it did seem a very hard law indeed that all those people, poor as well as rich, should have to load their ships with gold; but I soon found that the King had arranged matters for them in such a way that, if they only took the trouble, the law could be obeyed by every single person, and that not one ship need sail away without its proper cargo, if the owner set about his work in the right way, and kept steadily to it. You see, therefore, that the people in that country had a great deal to attend to. They had all the work, and the lessons that the grown-up people and the children have to get through in England, and, besides that, they had to load their ships with gold. I found, too, that there was no fixed time for the ship to sail away on their voyage. and that the people had nothing to do with settling the time when they should start. The King did that, and sometimes He would send the little children's ships sailing away by themselves, with the children in them. Sometimes men and women had to stop in the very middle of their work and go away in their vessels; the old people went too, but sometimes not till a great many of the young ones had gone first.

No one knew when they would have to

start, but directly the call came they had to go, though as long as the ships stayed by the shore there was always room to put more gold into them.

When I heard all about this curious law which the King had made I thought, The people will certainly take care to have their ships ready; they will think more about that than about anything! However busy they are, they will be sure to get the gold to put in their ships!'

So I watched to see what they did, and to my wonder I found that the people seemed to think very little indeed about their ships. They thought a great deal more about their work-their homes and fields, and gardens and railroads, their clothes and their food! Even the children were more earnest about their lessons and their play than about filling their ships with gold. I was so much surprised at this, that I asked some of them if they knew about the King's law. Oh, yes,' they said, "they knew about it.'

O come and see that old elm-tree Where we our arbour made, Ten days ago no leaf did show,

And now there's quite a shade.

The lambs and sheep their noontide keep
Here on this sheltered ground;

Is it not sweet to hear them bleat?
What love is in the sound!

My child, true prayer and tender care
In those fond tones unite;

All lambs who bleat at Jesu's feet
Are happy, day and night.

His arms around His lambs are wound,
His voice is soft and clear;
'My little lamb, thy Lord I am,

No harm can reach thee here.

On thee her stores kind Nature pours,
For thee her sunbeams shine;
My darling, pray thy cares away,
For all I have is thine.

Dark storms may rise in angry skies,
And Death his thousands kill;
But lean on Me, and thou shalt be

My lamb, safe folded still.

And when they toll, because thy soul.

Far, far away has flown,

Still safe by Me thine eyes shall see

Thy Shepherd on His throne.

The fondling ewe may prove untrue;
The faithless mother see,
With lack-love eyes, the babe that lies
A burden on her knee;

But My great Name shall be the same
Sure refuge of thy heart,

When the sun's light is quenched in night, And Heaven and Earth depart.'

G. S. OUTRAM.

DENIS DONOVAN'S DONKEY.

EARY me! deary me! I never thought to come to this!' said Mrs. Donovan, as she rocked herself to and fro in her seat by the little bit of fire in the grate, and wiped

her eyes with a corner of her apron. 'What's to become of us I don't know: we'll have to go into the House, I suppose -me that's always been toiling and slaving to keep a bit of a place of my own!' Denis drew up his head proudly. won't go into the House, mother. work for you and the little ones.'

We I'll

Mrs. Donovan looked fondly at the ladhe was her special pet and darling amongst the seven-but not as if she trusted much to his power of doing a great deal.

"Eh, my lad, and it's little you can do to get bread for us, and you not twelve years old. Eh, it's a bad thing for a woman to lose a good, steady husband, and be left with a pack of children about her.' And Mrs. Donovan cried still more, and neither Denis, Katie, Biddy, nor the rest of them, could do or say anything to comfort their distressed mother.

But though he was young, Denis was a sharp little chap, and he believed that if only he could get a chance of work he would be quite able to help a great deal; and with what Mother' earned at the laundry, and Biddy' at her place, where she got eighteen-pence a-week beside her food, they might, at any rate, manage to keep out of the much-dreaded workhouse.

The difficulty was to find what to do. Boys were too plentiful to be in great demand. Oranges and watercress-selling

did not bring in much; and Denis had but one ambition, and that was to start as costermonger, with a donkey and truck.

A wild scheme, truly, for a little lad who hadn't a sixpence in his pockets, or much more than rags to his back. However, though he was so poor, he was rich in hope and courage; and so he started, unknown to his mother, to beg one or two gentlemen and ladies, who had known his dead father, to give him a lift.'

The boy's earnestness got him at first a hearing, and his desire to help mother' and keep her out of the House,' interested those to whom he applied; and so Denis was successful at last, and the money was ready for the purchase of his donkey, truck, and vegetables.

He had planned a great surprise, and this was to drive his donkey down James's Buildings, and let mother be astonished by the sight. So he found an old friend of his father's to help him with his purchases, that he might begin without making any mistakes. It wasn't a handsome donkey, I must confess, it had been a costermonger's property for many a long year; but Denis had got him a bargain, and I don't suppose a soldier was ever more proud of his charger than the little Irish boy was of his old Neddy.'

The night before Denis began his trade he had but little sleep, he was so anxious to be up and off to the markets with Barney O'Leary to buy his vegetables.

'Bless the lad, what's took you?' his mother said. 'You're always in and out, and don't care for your home as you used.'