For weeks their faces haunted me; and still I often think, on some cold, wintry night, That I can see the hungry, wistful eyes, The features wan, of those two little ones.

But was that all, dear mother? did you hear No more about them?

Yes; I did hear more; But not until another year had gone;They would not tell me sooner, for my grief. They told me then, that although on that night

The search was vain, next morning at the hour

For morning prayer in church the sexton

went

To open the church door and chime the bell, When in the porch outside the entrance door He saw two children, sleeping as he thought, Locked very tightly in each other's arms. He went to rouse them, but they did not

move: :

He touched them-they were cold; and then he knew

They never more would feel the cold, or die: Knew them to be past waking, till the day When they and all of us shall wake again.

Before they laid them in their grave they learnt

Their little history,-and how they came To this quick ending of their childish days. Their father had been dead some months before,

Leaving their mother all alone with them: And she, poor soul, had sadly wandered

back

To this, which once had been her parents'

home,

For help and shelter in her native place. And here she found but one relation left To take her in and help her in her need. And soon she drooped and died. In Christmas week

Her little ones, with her who sheltered them,

Herself a widow,-followed to the grave Their mother. They, poor children! were to go

Into the workhouse after some days more, For she who took them was too poor to keep them.

But this they shrank from, though they scarce knew why.

And soon a scheme dawned on their childish minds,

A way to earn their bread, and so escape That dreaded house where they would be shut up,

Perhaps not play together, and perhaps Never go out to see their mother's grave. So on the Epiphany, that snowy day, They wandered off, regardless of the cold, To sing the carols they had learnt at school In happier days for happy Christmas times. But who would heed them in the driving snow?

Or what it was that scared them, none can tell.

It may have been the sound upon the stairs Of all those feet and voices; or the dog Bounding along before the approaching guests,

And barking at such strange intruders there. The rest was all too plain: they must have gone

Along the pathway leading to the church, Led by some instinct to their mother's

grave;

And there they crept inside the old churchporch

To find some shelter from the cold, and found it :

Found rest, for, clasping each the other round,

They sank into their last, long, painless sleep,

No more to hunger, and no more to die.

So now you know the tale I had to tell. You know the reason why, for many years, Twelfth-night has been in this dear house.

of ours.

CIRCU

THE CIRCUMCISION. IRCUMCISION was a religious rite, by which Jewish infants were brought into covenant with God, as baptism is the Christian rite by which children under the Gospel dispensation are brought into covenant with Him. The first-born son in every family was to be circumcised at the age of eight days. It was a painful rite, yet Jesus Christ submitted to it. Why?

Not because He needed to enter into covenant with God. He was already one with God, and was God. He did it because He would obey the law in all things. He Whose death could save the world must practise perfect obedience; and He who

was to be an example to all mankind must obey the Father in all points.*

God is a good and loving Father, yet He sometimes requires us to do things which. seem hard and painful. But we may learn of Jesus Christ to do them cheerfully, and the time will come when we shall be amply rewarded.

Children can, perhaps, best learn obedience to God by first obeying their earthly parents. Jesus was subject,' or obedient, to the Virgin Mary and Joseph.† What a noble pattern to follow! Should not all children give a ready obedience to their parents, their teachers, and all who are set over them? If they did, homes would be happier and schools brighter. Parents, and teachers, and guardians would rejoice, and the children would be light-hearted and joyful.

Let every one who reads these lines honour his father and mother, and all who are placed over him in the Lord. E. L.

ONCE,

THE NEW-YEAR'S PRESENT. NCE, on the first day of the year, a shopkeeper sent for his four assistants, and said to them, I wish to make each of you a New-year's present, and I will give you the choice,-Will you

you

have a Bible or five dollars? If take my advice, you will choose the Word of God.'

The oldest of the four said, 'Very gladly, good sir, would I accept the Bible; but, you see, I must confess to my shame that I cannot read: so if it is the same to you, I would rather have the five dollars." The master answered him,- Well, you have free choice--here they are;' and he handed him the bright silver pieces.

The second and third apprentices also
* See Luke, ii. 21.
+ Luke, ii. 51.

table before him. The young man opened the book and found a ten-dollar note inside it. Greatly amazed at this he stared at his good master, who said to him,- That is for you, my friend, because you have chosen the Bible. Go in peace, and diligently study the good book."

The young man who had received such a liberal present went away. The other three assistants looked rather vexed when they heard that each of the other Bibles, which they had refused for the five dollars, contained also a ten-dollar note.

his father would be the best person to give him the flogging which he deserved. Tom had been throwing stones at some of the other children, and had broken two panes in the school-windows. He had also been very saucy, and had made two or three younger boys as rude as himself. The teacher was the more sorry for his conduct, as he had found him attentive in his class, and anxious to improve. Mr. Jones did not know Grant's temper, or he would have hesitated before asking him to punish the boy.

No sooner had Grant heard the story than he rose up from his seat in a towering rage, and taking down a leathern strap, strode out at the cottage-door. Tom was loitering about in the road, afraid to come in, knowing by experience what his father's temper was. He ran away and tried to escape from the angry man, who was roaring at him to stand still. Grant made a dash at him, but Tom avoided it, and ran back into the cottage, and threw himself down by the side of Rhoda's bed. The teacher had left the cottage, and Grant came in raging like a madman, and seized the boy by the collar, in spite of Rhoda's entreaties.

'O father dear, don't hurt him!' she cried; he won't do it again: he is very sorry."

"You hold your tongue, lass,' was Grant's reply. And now, you young rascal, I'll give it you now I've got you! How dare you try to get away ?

Rhoda hid her eyes, and heard with terror the lashes of the strap, and her brother's cries of pain, and then there was

pause, and she looked and saw her brother with a pale face, limping out of the cottage, and she heard her father bawl after him, If you come back again, you good-for-nothing rogue, I'll kill you!"

6

And then she heard Tom say, 'I'll take good care not to come back again!'