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AMONG LIONS.

(Continued from page 164.)

CHAPTER IV.

HE Lion of Ignorance thinks he will devour

that poor little girl,' said Mr. Swayne aloud, as the echo of her footsteps vanished; but, please God, we will try and fight him for her. I fear she is with people who think but little of such things. But now, to turn to ourselves, I want you children to feel each for himself, or herself, the subject I have been speaking on to-day. Think seriously for five minutes what special lions assail your souls: you need not tell me unless you like, but tell it to yourselves, and then let us all pray to be guarded against our besetting sins, for such these lions are.'

Five very quiet minutes passed, and then little Dora crept up to her father.

'Father, does my lion mean Carelessness, forgetting to do things?' she asked.

"I think it is, Dora,' said he; and now you have found him out, keep watch against

him.'

Dora went back to her place with a very set face; she was going with God's help to conquer this lion. Unfinished tasks, unpunctual habits, the desire for play when work had to be done, all rose up before her, accusing her, but still her heart never failed. If she was watchful, God helping her, the lion could not devour her.

The village children, if they wished it, were less able to express their feelings, and Mr. Swayne did not care to urge them to do so; he waited a little longer, hoping that they were taking his counsel to heart, and then he bade them all open their Prayerbooks at the Collect for the Eighteenth

Sunday after Trinity, which he read aloud, the children joining in :

'Lord, we beseech Thee, grant Thy people, grace to withstand the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil, and with pure hearts and minds to follow Thee the only God; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

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Amen.'

After that the children trooped out. When Mr. Swayne reached the porch he found one waiting for him, however -a heavy-looking lad with the lightest of hair, and wide-open blue eyes. He was standing uneasily, and looking as if he had something on his mind. So Mr. Swayne asked,

"Well, Roger, what is it?'

'I've been thinking,' said Roger, what's wrong with me, but I don't know what you call it: it's along of Johnny, my little brother; he's a deal cleverer than me, and it cuts me when mother praises him, and I feel bad against him.'

"That feeling is Envy, my boy,' said Mr. Swayne, gravely; 'a very troublesome lion in your path. But how is this? I always thought you were such a good brother to Johnny.'

'I minded him when he was little,' said the boy, looking down, and he thought a deal of me; but of late he's got on in the school, and he thinks a lot of learning, and I'm no scholar.'

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And so he rather looks down upon you, Roger the little goose! Well, never mind: your broad shoulders can bear that, I should think. Only don't give way to envy; if God had thought it well for you He would have given you the gift of learning too, but I think He meant that you were to gain your living by your hands and not your head, Roger.'

'I should make a poor job of it with my head, sir,' said Roger, a smile lightening

his face. But it isn't Johnny alone; it's mother and father, now Johnny is taking to clever ways. I reckon they're a bit disappointed in me, and I was wondering if I could get Mr. Brett to give me a bit of teaching after hours: he does it to some. I tried once before, but it only seemed to put me more in a puzzle.'

'What do you do now after hours, Roger ?" asked Mr. Swayne.

'Tidy up the garden and do odd jobs for mother, and twice a-week I go into Shockley on errands for her and Miss Violet.'

'Roger,' said Mr. Swayne, if you ask me, I would not advise you to trouble yourself about books this summer; you seem usefully and properly busy all day long, and you are not seeking instruction for its own sake, but only, it seems to me, from mistaken idea that it will raise you in the esteem of your parents. Wait till winter, at all events; your mother could hardly do without your help just now-could she? and do your duty, and bide your time. People may not think much of you now, but there are many things better than book-learning.'

Roger went away a good deal comforted. Mr. Swayne pondered a little on what had passed. 'Johnny Weir is a clever little lad,' he said to himself, and I don't wonder he is growing vain. I must talk to him. I noticed he was not so steady in the choir as usual. Poor Roger! it is hard on him having this little upstart crowing over him, but Roger is a good lad, and will not let it vex him long. And now for this poor little girl that crept into the church to-day. There was something touching in her ignorance and simplicity. I wonder if she belongs to that unpleasant-looking man who owns the affair? She is too bright and intelligent-looking to be really half-witted; she must have been strangely neglected.

But one can do so little with these vagabond strollers.'

And Mr. Swayne passed into his trim garden and among his happy children with a look of care on his face.

Alice and Gilbert ran up to him with flowers in their hands, ready for a walk or a chat. But little Dora, who was generally the first to seize upon him, where was she?

'Oh she's in the summer-house with a book,' said Gilbert, laughing; 'taken a studious fit: I went to her just now, but she asked me to leave her quite alone for ten minutes.'

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'Learning my Collect ready for the week,' said little Dora; and it's quite perfect now. I wanted to do as you told us in church, father, and this was the first bit of carelessness I could put right.'

'Setting to work at once! that is the way; is it not, little one? Well, Gilbert and Alice, and have you been trying to find out what lions most beset your paths?'

Gilbert switched a neighbouring rosetree with the little cane he carried, and declared there are such a lot of things that got in a fellow's way, but he meant to look out as soon as ever he got back to school.

And Alice blushed and hung down her head; it was odd that her father should ask her such a question-she, who was nearly grown up! Gilbert and Dora were quite different, giddy things always in trouble.

Mr. Swayne said no more, so Alice had no need to explain her blush and silence. (To be continued.)

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