PERSEVERE AND CONQUER.

CHAPTER I.

Y dear May, I do think sometimes you will never be cured of jealousy. It seems to be your chief fault."

'Oh, mother, I do indeed try; but somehow I always fail. I cannot think how it is!'

The above words were part of a conversation which took place one morning in the parlour in a little villa in a country town. The first speaker was Mrs. Winter, a lady of between thirty and forty years of age, and she addressed her little daughter, a girl of about ten years of age. The tone was not angry or faultfinding, but that of sympathy and some slight degree of anxiety, while the child spoke with earnest feeling. The dialogue continued,

'I think I know the cause of your failure. You rely on your own strength, and all who do battle in their own, and not in God's strength, are sure to fail.'

'It seems no use trying,' replied the child: I feel ready to give up.'

You make another trial, and if you keep what I have said in your mind, and act upon it, you will yet succeed.'

'How am I to act upon it, mother?' rejoined the child, her temper getting the better of her.

'By praying to the Lord,' replied the mother quietly. Do you not know that to pray it is not necessary to kneel down, nor even to say so many words? You can pray from the heart without either: a thought, a desire sent up to God in time of temptation, calling upon Him for help, will be answered.'

The conversation was interrupted by the

ringing of the dinner-bell, and both mother and daughter hastened to their duties. May was called to the nursery to carry her little sister Katie downstairs. The baby's smiles and winning prattle soon removed the shadow from May's face, and when they entered the dining-room together, both looked so bright and happy that Mr. Winter remarked upon the circumstance.

6

"Why, I declare, May,' he said, what a change in your looks! how different from the little girl who, a few minutes ago, I heard saying it was no good trying to be good-tempered, and she should not try again! Can you guess who that was?'

"Oh, father!' said May, her colour rising to her face: did you hear me? I did not mean it, indeed I did not!'

One word more of reproach, and she would have burst into tears.

'Come here, May,' said her father kindly, and tell me what you had so hopelessly failed in when I heard you speak those words.'

In conquering my envy, father,' almost sobbed May. It always seems to me that everybody loves Lily best, and she gets invited out most, and has the best toys, while I am disliked by everybody, so I can't help feeling jealous.'

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May, my darling,' resumed Mr. Winter, 'people would love you just as much as they do Lily if they could see you trying to overcome your fault. As I was passing down the road to business I heard two of your little companions talking together. Now do you think you should feel envious if I told you what they said?'

'I will try not; please tell me, father!'" 'Well, one little girl said, "I am going to have a party next Monday, which is my birthday, and I should like you to come. I want to ask Lily Winter, and I suppose I must ask her sister too, or else she will

be jealous; but then, if she comes, she will spoil it all! If we begin a game, she is sure to say that we have given her the worst part to play, and then she will be cross and break it all up."

Now, May, that is not a good character to have, and you must try and overcome your bad feelings or you will become disliked by all your little friends, or they will not enjoy your company nor you theirs, for you cannot feel happy in that state.'

'No, father, I am not, and I can see now that it is my own fault; but I should be very sorry to lose Jessie Warder's party.'

'Yes, my dear,' answered her father: that is not the only thing to be sorry for. Think how you are displeasing God, Who loves you with all your faults. Now ring the second bell, May, and we'll have the others in to dinner.'

Mrs. Winter and the children came in, and dinner began. During the meal Mrs. Winter proposed that Lily and May should go with the younger children and nurse into a neighbouring field for the afternoon. They were all delighted at the idea of a whole afternoon's play.

But you must each take a pocket-handkerchief to hem,' said Mrs. Winter.

Oh!' said Eddie, the youngest boy, 'they won't then be able to play with us!'

'My dear child,' said Mrs. Winter, 'when they have done their work, their play will seem all the more pleasant, and if they work quickly they will soon be done.'

'Do excuse them, mother,' said Leonard, a boy of nine. 'I shall not be at home for long, and I wanted to have a good game with them.'

'I have said what I wish done, my dears, and I shall say no more,' said Mrs. Winter, rising from her seat.

The children knew that their mother intended to be obeyed. They ran away to

dress, and soon all were ready. Lily and May, with their work-baskets containing the pocket-handkerchiefs, ran along with the boys, while nurse followed with baby. A few minutes' walk brought them to the field, where they made some comfortable seats on the new-mown hay. Leonard and Eddie scampered off to some distance, for May said that if they played about her she could not get on with her sewing. Lily worked diligently on, but May kept looking up and longing to be off to play.

'How much have you done, Lily?' she inquired very soon.

I am just finishing the second side,' answered Lily.

'Oh dear, Lily, how quick you work! I shall never catch up to you!' grumbled May.

Just then Eddie came up, and said that Leonard wanted Lily at once.

"May I come, too?' asked May. 'No,' answered Eddie; 'I was to be sure and say you were not to come.'

Lily threw down her work, and was soon out of sight. May remained quiet for some little time.

'Oh, nurse!' she exclaimed at last, with tears in her eyes, is not it a shame that Lily should go and not I? You know she is younger than I am. Everybody seems to like Lily best. How can I help feeling jealous when my own brothers won't have me come with them? It is a shame that they should start off and leave me here to sew by myself! I don't care, though; I shall be quick and get my sewing done.' (To be continued.)

PERSEVERE AND

CONQUER.

(Continued from page 383.) UT in spite of this poor consolation, May burst out crying, and ran away behind. a hay-rick, under the shelter of which they had been sitting. Poor child! she had

a good cry, and then sat and watched Lily as she ran round to the house, and returned with something under her apron. May could see that as she passed the nurse she said something to her, and May thought it must be something unkind about herself, which made her feel angry. At last she grew calm, and began to think how foolish it was to cry and feel angry; then she remembered her conversation with her mother in the morning, and felt how jealous she had been. Then she said a prayer -it was only a little prayer but it came from her heart. She prayed for a contented and cheerful spirit, and that she might feel free from all envious feelings towards her brothers and sister. After that she felt comforted, and returning to her seat she set to work to finish her task, looking up now and then to see the other children, but they were quite out of sight.

'I wonder where they are, nurse?' said May, as she sat playing with Katie on her lap.

I don't know, dear,' answered nurse; 'but as Miss Lily passed she told me it was a great secret, and asked if you would take her handkerchief home when you went, as she must finish it in the evening if she was not back in time.'

'I am afraid mother will be angry if it is not done. I think I might do it for her.'

'You are a good girl to think of that, Miss May,' said the nurse. 'I would, if I

were you, while I take baby for a run round the field.'

May thought that her prayer had been answered, for she felt as free from envy as it is possible to be. She stitched away at Lily's handkerchief till it was quite finished, then she put it away in her basket, ran across the field, and played such a merry game with Katie and her nurse, that nurse afterwards declared that May was as goodtempered as Lily.

When the sun was beginning to set they went home. May was quite surprised that the afternoon, which she expected to be so long, had passed so quickly and happily

away.

CHAPTER II.

WHEN Lily ran away with Eddie to her brother Leonard she found him seated on a stile, busy with a pencil and paper reckoning up figures.

'Lily,' he said, when they came near, don't you think we are rather unkind to May sometimes? You know how often we call her "Jealous Jane," and tease her when we know she is trying to be amiable, and it is neither right nor kind of us. It gives us no pleasure, and makes her feel wretched and dislike us. All of us have our faults, and we know how hard it is to conquer a fault we have long indulged. Father told me after dinner to-day, that she is really trying to conquer her fault, and that we ought to try and help her, and not annoy her; so, as a beginning, let us buy her a pretty canary-bird. May must have felt envious when Mrs. Vernon gave you that lovely little white kitten. So, will you put some money to mine, and together we can make up the five shillings, which is what it will cost? Eddie will put his shilling, and I will put half-a-crown. Will you put anything?'