"Yes, indeed I will,' said Lily. I'll give eighteenpence out of my half-crown, and buy some sand and seed for dickey. He will want a cage.'

'I have arranged that,' said Leonard. "I asked mother for the cage which she had for her bird till he died, and she will give us that. Well, Lily, you just run down home and bring the cage under your apron. Mind that May doesn't see it, or she will guess. We must keep it quite secret from her. It must be a glorious surprise.' Her mother

Off ran Lily to the house. not only consented but approved of the arrangement; and soon, as we have seen, May returned to the rest of the party. Leonard took the cage in his hand, and they set off down the road to the house where lived the owner of the bird. Eddie and Lily then gave him their money. In ten minutes he returned slowly to them, whistling to the bird. The others rushed to meet him, clustering round to see the beautiful dickey, and admire his plumage; and while Leonard related how Tom Wood had parted with his bird because he wanted to buy a fishing-rod, and had not money enough, they drew near home, chattering, laughing, and clapping their hands with joy, at the prospect of the surprise they were preparing for May.

When May returned home she had quite forgiven her sister and brothers for running away from her, and, as she thought, playing by themselves all the afternoon; and when her father asked her how she had been getting on, she replied cheerfully, and told him all that had happened. He listened to her and then he said,

'Well done, May! you have done well; you have succeeded better than I expected. But you know that this is only a small trial. You have made a good beginning, but you will have many more and worse trials before

you are quite free. You will have to watch yourself very carefully, and try to continue in the proper path. You have the reward of knowing that you are trying to please God; and if you look to Him, you will have power to overcome in harder temptations. Run away and help your mother, for tea should be ready by this time.'

May went and helped her mother to set out the tea; and after the tea was made she stopped for a moment to look out of the window, from which she could see the field in which they had been playing, and the path leading to the church where they all worshipped together on Sundays, and the river gliding away into the distance, away from the town into the quiet and peaceful country. She was gazing on the scene, thinking and wondering when she should be free from jealousy, when she heard Lily calling from the nursery. There was a sly look in her eyes when May entered. She was nursing the baby.

'May, dear,' she said, 'would you mind getting my apron from our bedroom, and taking up my hat and things? I cannot leave baby till nurse returns, and tea is almost ready!'

The two boys exchanged looks, and followed her on tiptoe. What was May's surprise to see the little canary chirping and singing away as merrily as though he had lived there all his life! May was delighted, and so were the boys, who followed her and jostled each other in the doorway to catch a glimpse of the effect of their surprise. Lily soon joined them and explained the mystery, saying that they all meant to try and help her in her good resolutions; and, after kissing and being kissed, then they all went off to tell mother and father the fun.

(Concluded in our next.)

THE STRUGGLE AND THE

VICTORY.

OHNNY,' said a farmer to his little boy, it is time for you to go to the pasture and drive home the cattle.'

Johnny was playing at ball, and the pasture was a long way off, but he was used to obey; so off he started, without a word, as fast as his legs could carry him.

Being in a hurry to get back to play, he only half let down the bars, and then hurried the cattle through, and one fine cow, in trying to crowd over, stumbled and broke her leg.

Johnny stood by the suffering creature, and thought to himself- Now, what shall I do? that was the finest cow father had, and it will have to be killed, and it will be a great loss to father. What shall I tell him?'

'Tell him,' whispered the tempter-the same tempter who puts the wicked thoughts into all our hearts-tell him you found the bars half down and the creature lying there.'

'No, I can't say that,' said Johnny; for that would be a lie.'

Tell him,' whispered the tempter again, 'that while you were driving the cows, that big boy of Farmer Brown's threw stones. and hurried that cow so that she fell.'

No, no,' said Johnny, I never told, a lie, and I won't begin now. I'll tell my father the truth. It was all my fault. I was in a hurry, and I frightened the poor creature, and she fell and broke her leg.'

So, having taken this right and brave resolve, Johnny ran home as if he were afraid the tempter would catch him, and

he went straight to his father and told him the whole truth. And what did his father do?

He laid his hand on Johnny's head, and said, 'My son, I would rather lose every cow I own than that my boy should tell an untruth.'

CAPER.

WHEN I was quite a baby,

Many years ago,

I had a little carriage

In which I used to go.

A clever goat drew it

Caper was his name;
Sister Mary walked beside him,
As we trotted down the lane.
Caper had horns,

And a very long beard,
He very seldom kicked,
And he never never reared;
But once a big dog

Came growling up to me,
And Caper butted at him

And knocked him flat, you see.

So though I'm too big

Now for such a little horse, And such a little carriage,

I love my goat of course; And I pet him and coax him,

And hang him round with flowers, And we race about the meadows

HARD AS STONE.

(Concluded from page 379.)

OME few days after the battle of Gravelotte a long train of wounded arrived in Nancy. Among them. was our Fritz. With loving care he was lifted out of the ambulance-carriage, and borne on a stretcher to the hospital in the town. Sisters of mercy received him into their care. The poor fellow, indeed, could not have fallen into better hands. Angels in gentleness, heroines in their endurance of even the most repulsive tasks, always loving, patient, and cheerful, these sisters of mercy passed constantly from one sick-bed to another, spending help and comfort upon poor and rich, on friend and foe, without any distinction.

Sister Alphonse attended upon him, the severely-wounded Fritz. By his rude, impatient behaviour, by his curses and morose answers, she soon perceived of what spirit he was, and what was passing in his heart. 'Sick both in soul and body!' she sighed. O Lord, my God, be merciful to him!' And with the care of his shattered leg she began, gently and tenderly, the care of his much more deeply wounded, almost dead, soul.

Through her loving attention, her sweet, angelic manner, Fritz became quite taken with this sister, and yielded much to her wishes and advice. At first he angrily refused to hear of any change of heart which she frequently urged upon him, and it was only her constant entreaties which succeeded in persuading him to restrain his wicked. tongue, and check his profane oaths and curses while in her presence. But of re

pentance, of heaven and hell, he would hear nothing. Then Sister Alphonse was silent, that she might not by her persuasions give him greater cause for mocking and blaspheming God. This silence strikes him much; it is annoying and unpleasant to him. He does not know what to make of it.

A short slumber has closed his eyes; but he soon awakes out of it, and he hears some one near his bed sighing and praying. He looks round and sees his kind attendant, who is on her knees praying earnestly, with her eyes full of tears. To his eager question why she is weeping, and for what she is so earnestly praying, he receives, after some hesitation, the reply that she is weeping for him, on account of his hardness of heart.

Oh, I am very sorry indeed for that,' answered Fritz. I do not at all wish to give you sorrow-you whom I love as I do my mother. I would gladly give my heart's blood for you; for such an unselfish, devoted, self-denying love and care as you have shown, I thought could never be found in the world, and to be indeed impossible!"

"For me,' replied Alphonse, would you give your heart's blood! for me, a poor weak creature, for the care which I have shown you as a Christian duty? And for Him Who came down from Heaven to earth; Who suffered so much for us-even for you too; Who for you too went to bitter death and shed His Blood; Who, not as I have done, cared only for your sick body, but came to save your soul from eternal death, and has reserved everlasting happiness for you, if you will only accept it; for Him do you feel nothing? for love of Him will you make no sacrifice? For my small services will you be so grateful, and to the Lord of Heaven and earth, Who alone has the power to make you whole, and Who, if He will, can plunge both body and soul into

Then the ice was broken. She prayed before him, he prayed after her; first in a very low voice, scarcely audible, as if he were ashamed of the prayer. But with the

prayer came courage, too. Gradually his supplications became louder, more fervent, and at last tears of penitence rolled down his cheeks.

Alphonse had helped him to win Heaven. Let us hasten to the end. He became deeply penitent, and through God's fatherly goodness he obtained a more glorious victory than the greatest general. He had fought against the greatest, most powerful foe, had completely subdued him, and a sweet celestial peace entered into his troubled heart.

Be calm, dear mother! you who have mourned, sorrowed, and been in deep anxiety on his account. You saw a prodigal son march out to the bloody strife; restored, brought back to his God and to you, he returns to your quiet house, and joy and gladness now fill the place of mourning.

And Sister Alphonse? In fervent prayer she daily thanks God, Who has chosen out and honoured her as the weak instrument in the saving of a soul, and in bringing a lost one back to the fold of the True Shepherd. J. F. C.

muddy, the icicle looked foul and its beauty was spoiled. Just so our characters are forming; one little thought or feeling at a time adds its influence. If each thought be pure and right, the soul will be lovely and sparkle with happiness; but if impure and wrong, there will be sinfulness and wretchedness.

WHAT FATHER BROUGHT.

ATHER has brought us some toys;

FA

Milly-Jane--come and see! There's a parcel under his arm, And a doll in his hand for me. Such a wonderful doll!

It dances, and jumps, and kicks! The nicest toy in the world

For a little girl of six!

What has he got for Jane?

Jane, who is nearly eight! Jane, who clasps her hands,

And can hardly, hardly wait Till the parcel is untied,

And out comes the cup and ball. "Father, father, dear,

I like this best of all!'
But where's the quietest maid,
Milly, of ten years old?
Milly, with violet eyes,

And hair of the silkworm's gold; Milly, that helps her mother,

And steadily works all day, Then sits and smiles in the evening To see her sisters play? Come, little Queen of the flock,

What do you wish to-day? A book for reading on Sundays

To mother, and Jane, and May? Stories, and verses, and pictures,

All made pretty and plain? Take it, then, and kiss father, Good little maid of ten!

H.A. F.