A MOTHER'S SACRIFICE.

(MODERN.)

The baby lay in her cradle-bed,
And death came creeping on-

'We will not grudge her,' the mother said,
'Heaven's rest when she is gone.'

'No,' said the father, waiting by

And soothing as he could,

For well he knew how these things work
Together for our good.

And all night long they watch in turn,
And, when the morning broke,
Dear baby slept the sleep of death,
And then in heaven awoke.

They laid her in her coffin of elm,

Those parents trusting, true;

They saw her laid in the grave new-made,
But heaven stood open too.

And the mother looked with tear-dimmed eye

Towards that upper shore;

The child she loved so much was there,

The Saviour she loved more.

'O, how I love thy law,' she breathed, 'That orders all my life;'

O how I thank thee for the grace

That hushes nature's strife.

'Thou knowest best where we can serve,

For thou art wondrous wise;

And so I yield my babe to thee

For service in the skies.'

And to that mother's listening heart

The Master swift replies,

'A flower, when offered in the bud,

Is no vain sacrifice.'

GRETHA.

THE first time in my life that I ever saw Joe Black he was out on the sidewalk in front of the house where he lived. It was a sharp winter morning. He had a coat on, but not a hat. A boy who goes out of a winter morning without a hat on will be almost sure to catch a cold, get a sore throat, and perhaps have the croup, and be very sick indeed.

There were a number of boys on the side-walk, too, and Joe was looking on to see them play, rather than playing with them. Some of them were sliding along on the ice in the gutter, others were snowballing, and all seemed to be having a fine time.

Pretty soon a man came along. Joe was busy watching the boys, and did not see or hear the man until he was close upon him. The man had a heavy bundle upon his shoulder, and called out rather angrily to Joe, 'Get out of the way.'

Joe was not a little frightened at the harsh tone in which the man spoke to him, and got out of the way as quickly as he could.

Some boys would have answered this rude man rudely back, and perhaps told him to get out of the way himself; but Joe took the roughness very meekly.

The next morning Joe was out again; only this time he had not got as far as the sidewalk, but was standing on the door-steps, looking up and down the street, and wondering, when the same man came along who had spoken to him so unkindly the day before. He had what looked like the same bundle on his shoulder. The man did not see Joe, but Joe saw him and recognised him. But he kept perfectly still, and watched him go by.

Presently the man, as he walked along, put one hand in his side pocket, and pulled out his handkerchief. In so doing ¡he pulled out one of his mittens too. It fell, unseen by its owner, upon the sidewalk. When he put his handkerchief back in his pocket he did not miss the mitten. There it lay, just where it fell, the man walking faster and faster away.

Some boys in Joe's place would have been glad that such a cross man had lost his mitten, and would hope that he might never find it.

Not so Joe Black. He saw what had happened—the handkerchief taken out, the mitten fallen and left lying on the walk, the man unconscious even that he had dropped it. I don't know that he so much

as thought of the cross way the man had spoken to him the day before. If he did, he did not cherish any resentment. So off he started down the steps and along the walk until he came to the mitten. Picking it up, he ran on after the man as fast as his legs could carry him. Instead of calling out to him, he waited until he got close behind him, and then gently touched his hand.

The man turned around to see who touched him, and there stood Joe, holding up the mitten.

'Well done,' said the man, recognising the mitten, and feeling in his pocket at the same time. 'Well done! where did you find that?" And he took the mitten, and put it back in his pocket.

Joe only wagged his tail—for he was nothing but a great Newfoundland dog, Joe Black, and he couldn't speak a word. But I have sometimes thought that he was more of a gentleman than the man who dropped the mitten. At any rate, he knew how to return good for evil. Do you ?-Independent.

"GOD WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU."

A GENTLEMAN walking along one of the streets of Philadelphia was accosted by a boy, who pleaded for a penny. The gentleman was at first inclined to send him away; but something in the boy's face forbade that; so he asked,

'What do you want to do with a penny ?'
'Buy tread, sir,' was promptly answered.
6 Have you had nothing to eat to-day ?'
'Nothing, sir.'

'Boy, are you telling the truth ?' asked the gentleman, looking him steadily in the face.

'Indeed I am, sir.'

'Have you a father ?' questioned the gentleman, now thoroughly interested in the boy.

'No, sir; father is dead.'

'Where is your mother?'

'She died last night. Come home with me, and I will show you where my mother is.'

Taking the hand of the boy, the gentleman followed his guide down a narrow alley, and stopped before a miserable place which the boy called home. Pushing open a door, he pointed to his dead mother, and said, 'There is my mother, sir.'

Outcasts for Christ.

293

'Who was with your mother when she died ?' asked the gentleman, deeply moved.

'Nobody but I, sir.'

'Did your mother say anything before she died?'

'Yes, sir; she said, "God will take care of you my son.'

Sooner than his dying mother had dared to hope, God had honoured her faith by sending to her son one whose heart was touched with tenderest pity for his condition. The gentleman was a Christian, to whom God had entrusted much of this world's goods, and the little orphan was kindly cared for by him.

God in his Word is called the Father of the fatherless. He bas said that none of them that trust in Him shall be desolate, and it is safe to trust in his promises.

THE 'Missionary News' reports the following narrative:-'At Monghyr, near the banks of the Ganges, there lived a family of Korees, or weavers. With few, simple implements they make stuffs and clothes such as are used by Hindoos. The Koree caste was one of the lowest, poorest, and most despised. The husband of the family had heard the Gospel, believed it, and became a sincere Christian. Immediately his wife and family deserted him. Then his house was set on fire, and he was awoke from his sleep in the middle of the night by the burning embers falling upon him. He instantly started up, seized his loom, and providentially made his escape. His house, clothes, and bed were burned to ashes. He was denied shelter in the village, and was compelled for several months to remain outside under a tree. Here he worked his loom and supported himself as best he could. While living in this exposed situation, his wife returned to him, and declared her determination to be a Christian too. He was soon after joined by his brother and his wife and children, who also made up their minds to follow the Lord Jesus. With no better protection than the tree afforded, they all lived together for a considerable time. The village people refused to allow them to live with them, and the Zemindars refused to give them another spot of land on which to build a house outside the village. Thus they literally became outcasts for Christ. But the Lord in whom they trusted supplied their wants, comforted them in difficulty, and enabled them to say, 'We were living very happily under the tree.' These poor outcasts were full of joy, because they were the wealthy possessors of a rich Christ.

Outcasts for Christ, near Monghyr, Northern India.