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Na dressing-table in a bed-room of a beautiful house in Russell Square lay a white rose, prepared for the hair of Edith Warner, who was that evening going to a children's party. When Edith entered the room she said to her maid, 'Oh, Mary, how often I have told you white does not suit me? Why could you not buy me some coloured flower?' The maid answered that the florist had not many flowers, as it was the month of January; so her young lady began to dress.

Edith had not been long dressing when a servant came upstairs to say that the carriage was at the door and her father was waiting, so, hastily fastening the rose in her hair, Edith went to the party; where we will leave her, and pay a visit to one who was placed in very different circumstances.

In a miserable house in the neighbourhood of St. Giles's there was lying ill with fever a little girl, about the age of ten. She was now in the midst of poverty and wretchedness, but she had once enjoyed the pleasures of the country when her father, who was now dead, was a labourer on a farm. Her mother and brother stood at her bedside and watched the sick child with increasing anxiety. Annie, for that was the child's name, was very very ill, and her mind wandered. It was painful to hear how often her thoughts went back to her country life, to its flowers and fields, and specially to a favourite white rose-tree, a blossom from which she cried for in vain.

Her mother and brother watched long by Annie's bedside. After some time she fell

into a quiet sleep, and the mother sent her son Willie out for a walk, saying that he must go, or else he would be ill, as he had been attending his sister all that day, and several days before.

Willie obeyed, and walked along wishing he could satisfy Annie's craving for a white rose. He wandered along to St. James's Square, a carriage dashed past him and stopped at one of the houses. This carriage contained no other than Edith Warner. As she alighted, the rose, which had been hastily put in, fell from her hair. She passed into the house without noticing her loss, nor did the footman perceive it either. The carriage drove away as Willie came up, and he caught sight of the rose lying on the pavement; wondering to find the very flower he wished, he picked it up and carried it to his own home. During his absence a great change had come over his sister; the delirium had left her-but she was dying. When Willie opened the door she welcomed him with a sweet smile, and a look of intelligence came into her eyes which had not been there for days. Joy beamed in her face at the sight of the white rose, but she was too weak to express her pleasure except by signs. Her mother and brother watched the whole night, and when the morning was beginning to dawn, the dying child woke, and said, in such a low tone that she could scarcely be heard,—

'Then with all the saints in glory

Join to praise our Lord and King.'

She then cast a loving look on her mother and brother, and also on the white rose which lay in her hand, a sweet smile overspread her features, and her spirit was at rest.

We cannot tell of the sorrow of the mother and brother, but Willie's sorrow was somewhat soothed by the thought that his

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'Poor fellow

(Continued from p. 131.)


LEMENT,' said his father at breakfast, do you know that Tartar wouldn't attend to my whistle last night? He won't be ordered about by any one but his own master, it seems, so I was obliged to lock him out.'

he wouldn't like that. I can't think where he was off to; I never knew him stay away like that before.'

Well, you must see after him directly❘ you've done your breakfast; but I dare say he made himself comfortable enough in one of the out-houses."

"May I go now, father?'
"Yes, if you've finished.'

I'll go too; may I?' said Harry, and the boys ran out together.

They searched about in the yard and sheds, and Clement whistled and called; but it seemed all in vain, Tartar was not to be found. Then they made inquiries in the village, but nothing had been seen of him.

Suppose he's been stolen? He's such a beauty!' said Clement proudly, but with a quiver in his voice.

Father would offer a reward, or put an advertisement in the paper, or do something,' returned Harry. But it is queer.'

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Very, very queer,' was the rejoinder. 'My poor old Tartar!'

'We've not been down to the arbour,' said Harry, as they turned in at the gardengate; and though the suggestion did not seem to offer much hope, Clement caught at it as a last chance.

Yes, we must look everywhere; he may have lamed himself, and not be able to crawl home.'

'Perhaps he's been bitten by a rat; you know how they get up in the pipes; and Simpson says they are very ferocious. Only I hardly think they dare attack him, unless it was in his sleep.'

'Attack him! I should think not; he'd rat them, I promise you.' And Tartar's master laughed at the notion; but the laugh had not its usual merry ring.

Just then the boys came in sight of the tool-house.

Why, you never shut the door after all!' cried Harry in a tone of reproach.

Clement flushed up uneasily. His neglected duty had quite escaped his memory till that moment; and now it was Sunday, and he had his best clothes on: he could hardly set about straightening the place then.

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It's not the door only,' he said crossly; I forgot the whole business together.' "You promised me; and see all these things left outside!' said Harry. Father will be very angry if he comes down here.'

'I'm very sorry,' apologised Clement. I know it's too bad of me, but I'd only time for my lessons before dinner: at least,' -he corrected himself, feeling he was not keeping to the exact truth, I lost the time somehow, and got thrown at the last. I quite meant to do it, thongh-I never intended to break my word: I thought I'd run on home before you and James, but it went altogether out of my head. But it's no good worrying now, it can't be helped.'

Father will be vexed; and fancy how Simpson will blow up!' persisted Harry, not disposed to make light of the matter.

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early in the morning, before Simpson comes.'

'You'll go to sleep again after Ann has called you, as you did on Thursday,' Harry could not help saying, but he repented of the words the next instant in deep sorrow for his brother.

On the threshold of the tool-house Tartar lay, stretched stiff and cold; and Clement's cry of despair over his dead favourite was piteous to hear.

'Come, Clement! come, Clement!' said little Harry gently, after looking on for a while at the other's grief: 'you mustn't go on like this; it's dreadful to see you!'

Finding he was not attended to, if indeed he were heard at all, he ran to the house and fetched his father, telling him what had happened.

Mr. Harley raised Clement from the ground. Come, my boy,' he said, 'you

'It's my doing as much as yours,' said Harry, with prompt kindness. 'We both left the things about; we must have got down that packet by mistake with the seeds."

'But I agreed to clear away and to leave all right. You are very kind, Harry, but it's of no use; I know quite well it is all my doing, that it's all the fault of my horrid laziness. Oh! if I had only just run down here and locked the door, Tartar would be alive now.'

Mr. Harley said very little, the boy's own remorse was punishment enough; and the lesson it pointed out scarcely needed any

comment for the time.

(Concluded in our next.)



mustn't fret so much; let us try and find CAST thy bread upon the waters, and

out how it is: poor Tartar was in perfect health yesterday, I am sure.'

Clement roused himself to help at the examination. There was no wound anywhere. Mr. Harley looked round the toolhouse carefully, and exclaimed at once:

'Oh! it's plain enough! What can that stupid Simpson have been thinking of to leave this stuff about? He's been buying poison lately for the rats, I know; I've just picked this packet up from the floor.'

The boys looked at each other, and Clement turned white as a sheet. The truth flashed upon him in an instant; it was his own carelessness which had caused Tartar's death.

'It is not Simpson's fault, father,' he said in a husky voice; it is mine. Poor Tartar! and his tears dropped on the dog's lifeless body at his feet-it is your master who has killed you.'

thou shalt find it after many days.' (Eccles. xi. 1.)

Rice is the food most used in the East. In Egypt it is used even to this day. Every year, when the snows melt off the mountains, the river Nile rises up high and overflows its banks, and covers all the country round it with water. Rain is scarcely ever seen in Egypt, and it would be a desert but for the river that waters it. The people set down stakes, every man to mark out his own land, before the waters come. When the Nile has risen, and all the land is covered with water, they go out in little boats to sow their rice by casting it on the waters. The rice sinks in the mud below, and when these waters are gone they find that it has taken root and sprouted, and it grows up and gives them a harvest. Rice is the chief food in Egypt. This is 'Casting their bread upon the waters, and finding it after many days.'

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