THE

BOX ON THE EAR.

N inhabitant of Orleans, named Lepelletier, not content with giving all that he could to the poor, did not cease to ask help for them from all his acquaintance.

One day, seeing a rich merchant named Aubertot at his door, he approached him and said: 'M. Aubertot, will you not give me something for my friends?' for it is thus that he called the poor.

'No, I have nothing to give you !'
Lepelletier insisted.

If you knew in whose favour I ask your charity! It is for a poor woman who has just had a baby, and has no clothes for it!" 'I cannot.'

'It is for an old man who wants bread!' 'I cannot.'

"It is for a workman who has just broken his leg by a fall from the scaffolding!'

'I cannot, I tell you!"

'Come, come, M. Aubertot, allow yourself to be touched, and be sure you will never have the chance of doing a better deed.'

"That is for me; but what will you give me for my poor ?'

Aubertot, amazed at his persevering love, gave him even more than he asked.

rejoicing? First.

ASCENSION DAY.

ERE is a great festival, the day on which our Saviour Christ returned to Heaven after His work on earth was done. We have an account of the event in the first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles.

Why is this a day of holy

For several reasons.

By reason of the joy to our dear Lord, Who had longed to return to His Father, and once more share His glory.*

Second. Because, as Christ's work on earth for us was done, He now went up to Heaven, to do for us another work which could only be done there. He went to intercede for us,t and to prepare a place for us. It is because Jesus intercedes or pleads for us continually that the Father hears our prayers. It is because Christ has taken His human body into heaven, that we may hope that our risen bodies will find a place there too in the life to come. Though removed far out of our sight, our Divine Master is with us still in spirit. He loves to abide in the heart of each faithful Christian, and He loves to be ever in the midst of His struggling Church. Let this be our constant prayer,

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Keep me, Blessed Jesu, in Thy holy love; Grant that I, with all Thy Church, may live with Thee hereafter in endless happiness.' E. L.

D°

THE FRENCH FISH-GIRL.

O not regret giving two sous more, madame; we lead such a rude life.' So spoke Marie Bresson, a fisherman's daughter, to a good lady to whom she had just sold some fish.

"Ah! no doubt,' replied this lady, 'your life is a hard one; nevertheless, you don't look as if you suffered from it, your face is the picture of cheerfulness.'

Oh! I am not alluding to myself, madame; it was of my father and brother that I was thinking: they often work all night, and part of the day, too, and get nothing, or very little.'

"Their work is hard indeed, but yours scarcely appears much better to me!'

"Oh, it is habit which does everything. I would not change my employment for another less hard.'

'Not even when the sea is rough and you have to wade about in the mud?'

"I am not more afraid of the storm than I am of the fish.'

"Nevertheless you earn very little at that trade,' said the lady, glancing at Marie's wretched gown.

That is true, but we manage to get on. It is not easy to get used to hunger, but it is the stormy nights which are worse than all the rest; there is the difficulty; my mother and I suffer badly, but there is a way of enduring that like all the rest.' 'How?'

"I will tell you. The first time my father embarked as a sailor the captain said to him, "When the service obliges you to go up the rope ladders, look up. If you look down, very probably you will fall." The chaplain, who was present, added, "Yes, in in all your trials and fears, look on high!" My father often repeats those words to us, and when the men are at sea on stormy

To guide thy steps to Him, my pet, my sweet!

Ah, in this hour of bitterness I'm taught
What wrong I might have wrought.
Had He prolonged thy days,

I might have trained thee in ungodly ways— I might have loved unwisely-spared the rod,

And turned thy feet from God.

But now before His throne Gathered and garnered, thou art safe, my own!

In this sure thought my bleeding heart can rest;

I grieve, but thou art blest.

I would not, if I might,

Recall thee from the choir of love and light, But, childlike will I live, all faith and prayer,

Until I meet thee there!

G. S. OUTRAM.