on his cheel

now ?”

oor

day-school, and began to learn cipher- | before he had walked one hundred ing in the same quarter. Two years yards, he saw them on their way passed away, by which time Arthur home, both mounted on ponies. They had finished Practice; while Luke was had first been to the hay-fields, and scarcely able to work á sumin Division. afterwards for a pleasant ride. Luke

When breaking-up day came, and Linger at once saw that, by his delay, the half-yearly prizes were given, Ar he had lost a treat, while Arthur thur Archer received a nicely-bound Archer had got a good appetite for his volume of natural history; while breakfast, and a fresh glow of health

ike Linger was so low in good marks as not to be entitled to any reward. "How vexed I am, uncle!" cried

“How vexing it is !” said Luke ; Luke; “I quite meant to have gone “I meant to have got forward, but | with you to the hay-fields.” somehow everything is against me.” “It is all very well, Luke," said

" That excuse will not do, Master Farmer Hodges, “ so far as it goes, to Livger,” said his tutor; “it is quite intend doing a thing; but a bushel of plain to me that you have not done good intentions is not worth a penny your best. While others were work unless they end in good actions." iog, you were idling away your time. This was not the only time during You must persevere, Luke, if you in the visit that the farmer found out tend to be a scholar. Learning will the failing and folly of his nephew, in not drop into a dreamer's mouth.” wishing when he should have been

Arthur and Luke had an uncle, acting, and dreaming when he should Farmer Hodges, who invited them to have been doing. spend a week at his house in their One afternoon Farmer Hodges found Midsummer holidays. As they lived Arthur and Luke on a seat in the in a town, they looked forward to the garden, talking rather loudly. expected visit in the country with “Well, my lads, what is the matter great delight.

Uncle Hodges was an old-fashioned “Why, uncle," replied Luke, “I farmer. He wore a red waistcoat, was only saying that I wish I had a always rose with the lark, worked as large farm of my own, with a garden hard as any labourer in his fields, and and orchard, and sheep and horses, and never was absent from his pew on plenty of men to do the work for me.” Sunday. And then, too, he was a “Dreaming and wishing again?” kind-hearted and truly Christian man. said the farmer; “ that way won't do,

On the first morning of their visit at ! Luke; you must try another. Idle the farm, their uncle took them into wishes are all like weeds, which some, his rick-yard and orchard, showed times show their heads on my land ; them his new barn, and pointed out i but I root them out, for they will the finest of his horses, cows, and soon spoil my profits. sheep. He then promised, that if they “You see these hayricks. Do you could get up early the next morning think that by wishing I could ever he would take them to Brook Mea have got them here? No: the scythe dow, where the haymakers were busy the rake, and the hay-fork were set to at work, and then, perhaps, for a ride work. We were at it early and late, to Hightop Hill.

and made hay while the sun shone; On the morrow Arthur was up and and here the ricks are. ready before the clock struck six ; and “Look at those piles of corn in the was down in the farm-yard, looking at barn yonder. They are part of last the pigeons as they flew around the year's crop. There are no better in old elm-trees, until Uncle Hodges the parish; but how did they all come joined him. They waited some time there? It was not by dreaming about for Luke; but as he did not make his | it. I ploughed, and sowed, and in appearance, they set off without him. | the proper season set to work with

Luke lay dreaming in bed till nearly the sickle. God, in his goodness, gave seven, and when he got up he seemed the shower and the sunshine, and the in no hurry to make his way down- | corn is now safe in the barn, and will stairs. At length he appeared, and l soon be carried to market. went out into the cross-road to see if | “Look at those peas at the bottom of he could find his uncloand Arthur; but the garden, If I had not sown them

early in the spring, and seen well to | hope, my dear lads, that you will not them, they would not have yielded only be true Christians, but activeones. such a supply for our table as they do. The sum of all I have to tell you is

“The path along the lane, you see this-Fall not into the habit of being yonder, was nothing but mud and idle, either in carthly or heavenly mire in wet weather, so that it was things. Show that you belong not to not passable. Some of the farmers the family of dreamers, but to the said that it would be a good thing if | noble band of doers of good things.” a few loads of stones and gravel were thrown upon it. Others declared that they had thought for a long time to propose to the parish to have it put to A STAR IN HEAVEN. rights. And one or two said that they LIKE the eyes of angels were the meant, some time or other, to attend bright stars, and lovingly their light to the matter themselves, so that it fell on the upturned face of a fair might be no longer a discredit to the child seated on the greensward before village. Thus it went for yearsyet no her country home. Wearied with thing was done; it even got worse and sport, she had sunk down to search worse. When one day I called my for the daisies, like flakes of snow, men to follow me, and to work we nestled in the velvet grass. Caught went, and before the week was over, by the rich hues of sunset, she had the old lane looked as clean and was as watched until the last crimson gleam passable as the high road, along which faded ; and when the brightness had we took our morning ride.

vanished from even the highest tur“I think, then, Luke, that it is quite | ret, and deep shadows were lingering clear, if anything is to be done, it should over all, the first star of evening rose be done without delay; and we must be up in the clear, blue heavens. diligent, whatever we take in hand, Down into the reverent heart of that whether we be schoolboys or farmers.” little child sank the starbeam, and,

As Uncle Hodges spoke in his usual turning to her mother, she fixed her kind and cheerful way, the heart of earnest, deep blue eyes upon her, and Luke was touched, and he, as well as said, “Mamma, that is a star up in Arthur, listened with much attention. heaven that Fannie sees !” They now left the garden, and went “Yes, my little Fannie, it is the into the house to tea.

first bright, beautiful star of evening; That evening, as the farmer opened don't you remember the other night his large-print Bible at family worship, you asked papa if it was not one of he said, looking at the same time at the lamps of heaven lit by the angels, his nephows, “If wisbing and intend and he told you so much about the ing be a bad plan for the things of twinkling star?” this world, it is still worse for the To the sunny brow and pure eyes great concerns of the world to come. there came a deeper earnestness, for

The soul of the sluggard desireth, then, in that young soul, was awakenand hath nothing. There are thou ed a strange, a new desire. sands who mean to attend to the care “Mamma," she said, and her tone of their souls before they die, while | was deep, and her eyes grew very they dream away life, and at last die | bright, “do you not wish that your in their sins. That way won't do; we little Fannie was a star in heaven? must try another. We must at once then, every evening I could look down believe in Jesus Christ, and give him at you just like that pretty, pretty our hearts without delay. We must star.” to-day repent of our evil doings, and The mother took the little prattler seek the grace of the Holy Spirit to | on her knee, and, smoothing back renew our hearts, or we shall be in her fair hair, she gazed long on the great danger of being for ever lost. lovely cherub countenance; the flowers There are others who are idle profes of just three summers had blossomed sors of the Gospel--and an idle one is round her pathway. She was the only worse than an idle farmer. They do child of that mother, the idol of her nothing to serve and honour their | heart, and for the first time now came Lord and Master; and they will be the thought, Could she spare her? could found unfaithful stewards at last. Il she yield her treasure even to God?

A shudder ran through her frame as | be a star in heaven. Weep not for she exclaimed, “Oh, no!” and pas- | Fannie; bow meckly beneath the sionately kissed the rosy lips of the rod; say in faith, The Lord gave, astonished child.

and the Lord hath taketh away; The summer days wore on, and blessed be the name of the Lord.'” Fannie's little voice was heard carol The vision passed, the mother awoke, ling the merry songs of childhood in and, as she bent over her dying child, the garden and upon the lawn.

she felt a holy calmness, a willingness But when the autumn winds blew to give her little Fannie up; for she chilly, the little flower drooped its knew that “where her treasure was, head, the bud folded up its opening there would her heart be, and it was leaves, and helpless lay upon its now centered in heaven." parent's bosom. Oh! with what When the spring-time came again, anguish that mother watched her and the daisies blossomed amid the fading blossom, while the daystar of meadow grass, the step and voice of hope grew dimmer, and despair was the fairy child was sadly missed; for enthroned in her bosom. One evening, in a secluded city of the dead was a at twilight, as she watched beside her sacred little mound, round which the child, a soft feeling, as of a gentle fairest flowers blossomed, and upon slumber, stole over her, a cloud of whose white stone were the words : sweet incense rose before her, and an “OUR FANNIE, AGED THREE YEARS.” angel with a holy countenance bent And now, when the day-god sinks down and spoke, and the words she to rest behind the western hills, and seemed to hear were these :

the stars of evening look calmly down “Mother, I have come for your on the earth, speaking peace to the little treasure ; it is too frail to walk troubled soul, they fall on that little in the rough paths of this life; it was grave with a soft, loving light, for only placed here to show what holy she who rests beneath it is a star in beings inhabit the eternal world, and I heaven. now upon the bosom of God it will

Words of Wisdom.

SMILES FOR HOME.

by surprise, and, though spoken “ TAKE that home with you, dear,” slightly, had jarred upon his ear. said Mrs. Lewis, her manner half- ! The truth was, Mr. Lewis, like a smiling, half-serious.

great many other men, who have “ Take what home, Carry?” said their own business cares and troubles, Mr. Lewis, turning towards his wife | was in the habit of bringing home a curiously.

sober and, too often, a clouded face. Now Mrs. Lewis had spoken from It was in vain that his wife and chil. the moment's impulse, and already dren looked into that face for sunpartly regretted her remark.

shine, or listened to his words for * " Take what home?" repeated her tones of cheerfulness. husband. “I don't understand you.” “Take that home with you, dear!”

“That smiling face you turned upon Mrs. Lewis was already repenting Mr. Edwards, when you answered his this suggestion, made on the moquestion just now,” replied his wife. I ment's impulse. Her husband was * Mr. Lewis slightly averted his head sensitive to a fault. He could not and walked on in silence. They had bear even an implied censure from called in at the shop of Mr. Edwards his wife; and so she had learned to to purchase a few articles, and were be very guarded in this particular. now on their way home. There was I “ Take that home with you, dear!” no smile on the face of Mr. Lewis now, she repeated to herself. “Ah, me! I but a very grave expression indoed- wish the words had not been said. grave almost to sternness. The words There will be darker clouds now, and of his wife had taken him altogether | I am sure they were dark enough before! Why can't Mr. Lewis leave | Mr. Edwards. The remark of his his cares and business behind him, wife had not really displeased him ; and let us see the old, pleasant, it had only set him thinking. After emiling face again? I thought this remaining gravely silent, because he morning that he had forgotten how | was undergoing a brief self-examinat) smile; but I see that he can smile tion, Mr. Lewis said, “You thought if he tries. Ah! why don't he try the smile given to Mr. Edwards came at home?”

easily enough?" Thus soliloquised Mrs. Lewis, as “It did not seem to require an she walked along by the side of her effort,” replied Mrs. Lewis. husband, who had not spoken a word “No, not much effort was resince her reply to his query, “ Take quired," said Mr. Lewis, --and his what home?" Square after square tones were slightly depressed. “But was passed, and street after street this must be taken into the account; was crossed, and still there was my mind was in a certain state of silence between them.

excitement, or activity, that repressed “Of course,” said Mrs. Lewis sober feelings, and made smiling an speaking in her own thoughts-“ of casy thing. So we smile and are gay course he is offended. He won't bear in company, at cost of little effort, a word from me. I might have known because all are smiling and gay, and beforehand that talking out in this we feel the common sphere of exciteway would only make things worse. ment. How different it often is when () dear! I'm getting out of all we are alone, I need not say. You, heart!”

Carry, are guilty of the sober face at “What then, Carry ?” said Mr. home, as well as your husband.” Mr. Lewis.

Lewis spoke with a tender reproof in Mrs. Lewis almost started at the his voice. sound of her husband's voice, break “But the sober face is caught from ing unexpectedly upon her ear in a | yours oftener than you imagine, my softened tone.

husband,” replied Mrs. Lewis. “What then?” he repeated, turn “Are you certain of that, Carry ?” ing towards her, and looking down “Very certain,” she replied. “You into her shyly upturned face.

make the sunlight and the shadow of “It would send warmth and radi your home. Smile upon us ; give us ance through the whole house," re cheerful words ; enter into our feelplied Mrs. Lewis, her tones trembling ings and interests, and there will be with feeling.

no brighter home in all the land. A “You think so?" said her husband. shadow on your countenance is a veil

“I know so !” she replied. “Only for my heart, and the same is true as try it, dear, for this one evening.” respects our children. Our pulses

“It isn't so easy a thing to put on strike too nearly in unison, not to be a smiling face, Carry, when thought | disturbed when yours has lost its even is oppressed with care,” said Mr. beat." Lewis.

Again Mr. Lewis walked on in “It didn't seem to require much | silence, his face partly averted, and effort just now,” said Mrs. Lewis, | again his wife began to fear that she glancing up at her husband, with had spoken too freely ; but he soon something of archmess in her look. dispelled this impression.

Again a shadow dropped down "I am glad, Carry,” said he, “that upon the face of Mr. Lewi

you have spoken thus plainly. I only was again partly turned away; and wish that you had done so before. I again they walked on in silence. see how it is. My smiles have been

“He is so sensitive!” Mrs. Lewis for the outside world--for the world said to herself -- the shadow on her that neither loved nor regarded mehusband's face darkening over her and my clouded brow for the dear own. “I have to be as careful of ones at home, for whom thought and my words as if talking to a spoiled care are ever-living activities.'' child."

Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were now at No, it did not require much effort | their own door, where they paused a on the part of Mr. Lewis to smile as moment, and then went in. Instantly he passed a few words lightly with ' on passing his threshold, Mr, Lewis

r. Lewis, which

felt the pressure upon him of his usual where she had cone to take off her stute. The cheerful, interested exte- bounet and shawl, and change her rior he put on for those he met in dress. Well did her husband underbusiness intercourse began rapidly to stand the meaning look she gave him, change, and a sober lue to succeed. and warmly slid her heart respond to Like most business men, his desire for the smile he threw back upon her. profitable results was ever far in ad “Worils fitly spoken are like apple: vance of the slow evolutions of trade; of gold in pictures of silver,” said Mr. and his daily history was a history of | Lewis, speaking to her as she came disappointments, in some measure | in. dependent upon his restless anticipa “What do you mean by that?” tions. He was not as willing to work asked Mary, looking curiously into and to wait as he should be; and, like her father's face. many of his class, neglected the pearls “Mother understands," replied Mr. that lay here and there along his daily Lewis, siniling tenderly upon bis wife. path, because they were inferior in “Something pleasant must have value to those he hoped to find just a happened,” said Mary. little way in advance. The conse "Something pleasant? Why do quence was, that when the day's busi you say that?" asked Mr. Lewis. ness excitement was over, his mind “ You and mother look so happy,” fell into a brooding state, and lingered replied the child. over its disappointments, or looked "And we have cause to be happy," forward with failing hope into the fu- / answered the father, as he drew his ture ; for hope, in many things, had arm tightly around her, “in having been long deferred, and so he rarely three such good children." had smiles for his home.

Mary laid her cheek to his, and “Take that home with you, dear," | whispered, “If you are smiling and whispered Mrs. Lewis, as they passed happy, dear father, home will be like along the passage, and before they had | heaven.” joined the family. She had an in Mr. Lewis kissed her, but did not stinctive consciousness that her hus reply. He felt a rebuke in her words; band was in danger of relapsing into but the rebuke did not throw a chill his usual state. The warning was 1 over his feelings-it only gave a new just in time.

strength to his purpose. “Thank you for the words," said “Don't distribute all your smiles ; he; “I will not forget them."

keep a few of the warmest and And he did not, but at once rallied brightest for home,” said Mrs. Lewis, himself, and to the glad surprise of as she parted with her husband on Jenny, George, and Mary, met them the next morning. He kissed her, with a new face, covered with fatherly but did not promise. smiles, and with pleasant questions, The smiles. however, were kept, in pleasant tones, of their day's em though not for the outside world, ployments. The feelings of children and evening saw them. move in quick transitions. They had Other and many evenings saw the not expected a greeting like this, but same cheerful smiles, and the same the response was instant. Little happy home. And was not Mr. Jenny climbed into her father's arms; I Lewis a better and happier man? Of George came and stood by his chair, course he was. And so would all answering in lively tones his father's men be, if they would take home questions; while Mary, older by a | with them the smiling aspect they few years than the rest, leaned against so often exhibit as they meet their her father's shoulder, and laid her fellow-men in business intercourse, wbite hand softly upon his head, or exchange words in passing complismoothing back the dark hair, just ments. showing a little frost, from his broad, Take your smiles and cheerful words manly temples.

home with you, husbands, fathers, A pleasant group was this for the and brothers. Your hearths are cold eyes of Mrs. Lewis, as she came forth | and dark without thein ! to the sitting-room from her chamber,