"I've told you the truth,' answers the boy, very pale, but as firm as ever. May I say my prayers, please?'

“The mate nodded; and down goes the poor little chap on his knees and puts up his poor little hands to pray. I couldn't make out what he said (fact, my head was in sich a whirl that I'd hardly ha' knowed my own name,) but I'll be bound God heard it, every word. Then he ups on his feet again, and puts his hands behind him, and says to the mate quite quietly, 'I'm ready!'

"And then, sir, the mate's hard, grim face broke up all to *once, like I've seed the ice in the Baltic. He snatched up the boy in his arms, and kissed him, and burst out a-cryin' like a child; and I think there warn't one of us as didn't do the same. I know I did for one.

"God bless you, my boy!' says he, smoothin' the child's hair with his great hard hand. 'You're a true Englishman, every inch of you: you wouldn't tell a lie to save your life! Well, if so be as yer father's cast yer off, I'll be yer father from this day forth; and if I ever forget you, then may God forget me!'

"And he kep' his word, too. When we got to Halifax, he found out the little un's aunt, and gev' her a lump o' money to make him comfortable; and now he goes to see the youngster every voyage, as reg'lar as can be; and to see the pair on 'em together-the little chap so fond of him, and not bearin' him a bit o' grudge-it's 'bout as pretty a sight as ever I seed. And now, sir, axin' yer parding, it's time for me to be goin' below; so I'll just wish yer good night."

HANS AND FRITZ.-CHAS. F. ADAMS.

Hans and Fritz were two Deutschers who lived side by side, Remote from the world, its deceit and its pride;

With their pretzels and beer their spare moments were spent, And the fruits of their labor were peace and content.

Hans purchased a horse of a neighbor one day,

And, lacking a part of the Geld-as they say

Made a call upon Fritz to solicit a loan,

To help him to pay for his beautiful roan.

Fritz kindly consented the money to lend,
And gave the required amount to his friend;
Remarking-his own simple language to quote-
Berhaps it vas bedder ve make us a note."
The note was drawn up in their primitive way--
"I, Hans, gets from Fritz feefty tollars to-day".
When the question arose, the note being made,
"Vich von holds dot baper until it vas baid?"

"You geeps dot," says Fritz, " und den you vill know You owes me dot money." Says Hans: "Dot ish so: Dot makes me remempers I haf dot to bay,

Und I prings you der note und der money some day."

A month had expired, when Hans, as agreed,
Paid back the amount, and from debt he was freed.
Says Fritz," Now dot settles us." Hans replies, "Yaw:
Now who dakes dot baper accordings by law ?"

I geeps dot, now, aind't it?" says Fritz; "den you see
I alvays remempers you baid dot to me."

Says Hans," Dot ish so, it vos now shust so blain
Dot I knows vot to do ven I porrows again."

WHAT THE TEMPERANCE CAUSE HAS DONE FOR JOHN AND ME.-JOHN F. COLES.

My story, marm? well, really now, I haven't much to say;
But if you'd called a year ago, and then again to-day,
No need of words to tell you, marm, for your own eyes could

see

How much the temperance cause has done for my dear John and me.

A year ago we hadn't flour to make a batch of bread,
And many a night these little ones went supperless to bed,
Now just peep in the larder, marm, there's sugar, flour and

tea,

And that is what the temperance cause has done for John and me.

That pail that holds the butter, John used to fill with beer, But he hasn't spent a cent for drink for two months and a

year;

He pays his debts, is strong and well, and kind as man can beAnd that is what the temperance cause has done for John

and me.

He used to sneak along the street, feeling so mean and low. As if he didn't dare to meet the folks he used to know;

But now he looks them in the face, and steps off bold and free

And that is what the temperance cause has done for John and me.

A year ago those little boys went strolling through the street, With scanty clothing on their backs and nothing on their

feet.

But now they've shoes and stockings, and warm garments, as you see

And that is what the temperance cause has done for them and me.

The children were afraid of him, his coming stopped their play,

But now, when supper time is o'er, and the table cleared

away,

The boys all frolic round his chair, the baby climbs his knee, And that is what the temperance cause has done for John

and me.

Ah! those sad, sad days are over, of sorrow and of pain,
The children have their father back, and I my John again.
Oh, pray excuse my weeping, marm,-they're tears of joy
to see

How much the temperance cause has done for my dear John and me!

Each morning when he goes to work, I upward look and say: 'Oh, heavenly Father, help dear John to keep his pledge to-day!"

And every night before I sleep, thank God on bended knee, For what the temperance cause has done for my dear John and me.

TO THE RESCUE.

Up for the conflict! let your battle peal
Ring in the air, as rings the clash of steel
When, rank to rank, contending armies meet,
Trampling the dead beneath their bloody feet.
Up! you are bidden to a nobler strife-
Not to destroy, but rescue human life;
No added drop in misery's cup to press,
But minister relief to wretchedness;
To give the long-lost father to his boy;
To cause the widow's heart to sing for joy;
Bid plenty laugh where hungry famine scowls;
And pour the sunlight o'er the tempest's howls;
Bring to the soul, that to despair is given,
A new-found joy, a holy hope of heaven!

A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW.-MARY A. FORD.

The surging sea of human life forever onward rolls,
And bears to the eternal shore its daily freight of souls.
Though bravely sails our bark to-day, pale Death sits at the
prow,

And few shall know we ever lived a hundred years from now.
O mighty human brotherhood! why fiercely war and strive,
While God's great world has ample space for everything
alive?

Broad fields uncultured and unclaimed, are waiting for the plow

Of progress that shall make them bloom a hundred years from now.

Why should we try so earnestly in life's short, narrow span, On golden stairs to climb so high above our brother man? Why blindly at an earthly shrine in slavish homage bow? Our gold will rust, ourselves be dust, a hundred years from

now.

Why prize so much the world's applause? Why dread so much its blame?

A fleeting echo is its voice of censure or of fame;

The praise that thrills the heart, the scorn that dyes with shame the brow,

Will be as long-forgotten dreams a hundred years from now. O patient hearts, that meekly bear your weary load of wrong! O earnest hearts, that bravely dare,.and, striving, grow more strong!

Press on till perfect peace is won; you'll never dream of how You struggled o'er life's thorny road a hundred years from

now.

Grand, lofty souls, who live and toil that freedom, right, and truth

Alone may rule the universe, for you is endless youth! When 'mid the blest with God you rest, the grateful land shall bow

Above your clay in reverent love a hundred years from now. Earth's empires rise and fall. Time! like breakers on thy shore

They rush upon thy rocks of doom, go down, and are no more. The starry wilderness of worlds that gem night's radiant brow Will light the skies for other eyes a hundred years from now. Our Father, to whose sleepless eyes the past and future stand An open page, like babes we cling to thy protecting hand; Change, sorrow, death are naught to us if we may safely bow Beneath the shadow of thy throne a hundred years from now,

TWO BOOT-BLACKS.

A day or two ago, during a lull in business, two little bootblacks, one white and one black, were standing at the corners doing nothing, when the white boot-black agreed to black the black boot-black's boots. The black boot-black was of course willing to have his boots blacked by his fellow boot-black, and the boot-black who had agreed to black the black boot-black's boots went to work.

When the boot-black had blacked one of the black bootblack's boots till it shone in a manner that would make any boot-black proud, this boot-black who had agreed to black the black boot-black's boots refused to black the other boot of the black boot-black until the black boot-black, who had consented to have the white boot-black black his boots, should add five cents to the amount the white boot-black had made blacking other men's boots. This the boot-black whose boot had been blacked refused to do, saying it was good enough for a black boot-black to have one boot blacked, and he didn't care whether the boot that the boot-black hadn't blacked was blacked or not.

This made the boot-black who had blacked the black bootblack's boot as angry as a boot-black often gets, and he vented his black wrath by spitting upon the blacked boot of the black boot-black. This roused the latent passions of the black boot-black, and he proceeded to boot the white boot-black with the boot which the white boot-black had blacked. A fight ensued, in which the white boot-black who had refused to black the unblacked boot of the black bootblack, blacked the black boot-black's visionary organ, and in which the black boot-black wore all the blacking off his blacked boot in booting the white boot-black.

BURNING OF THE LEXINGTON.-MILFORD BARD.

Night rested on the sea-the moon alone,
O'er the wide waste of rolling waters shone;
The glorious sun had sunk in western skies,

And the dim stars looked down like angels' eyes,