Early Training and Teaching.

So then we laugh away
Quite as happy to-day

As if summer were smiling with cheer,
And as merrily sing

As the lark on the wing,

Whilst we wish all a happy New Year.

EARLY TRAINING AND TEACHING.

M°

OTHER! watch the little feet,
Climbing o'er the garden wall,

Bounding through the busy street,
Ranging cellar, shed, and hall;
Never count the moments lost,
Never mind the time it cost,
Little feet will go astray,

Guide them, mother, while you may.

Mother! watch the little hand,

Picking berries by the way,

Making houses in the sand,

Tossing up the fragrant hay;

Never dare the question ask,

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Why to me this heavy task?"
These same little hands may prove,
Messengers of light and love.
Mother! watch the little tongue,
Prattling eloquent and wild,
What is said and what is sung,
By the happy joyous child;
Cateh the word while yet unspoke,
Stop the vow while yet unbroke,
This same tongue may yet proclaim,
Blessings in the Saviour's name.
Mother! watch the little heart,
Beating soft and warm for you,
Wholesome lessons now impart,

Keep, oh, keep that young heart true ;

Well up-rooting ev'ry weed,

Sowing good and precious seed;

Harvest rich you then may see,

Ripening for eternity.

(From "School Music." London: Ward & Co.

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FR

The Signs of the Times.

THE SIGNS OF THE TIMES.

JAMES HENRY.

ROM the signs of the times take a lesson, I pray, For which, be assured, you have nothing to pay; There are sermons in stones, says a quaint old divine, The same we may find in a publican's sign.

There's the sign of the "Fleece," into which if you go,
Its practical meaning you shortly will know ;
For, when fleeced of your money and all you possess,
There's not the least chance of obtaining redress.

The "Hospital Tavern " says plainly to all
That the drink and disease are within easy call;
For the healthy man's weaker, the weak man is worse
If he handles or tastes of the treacherous curse.

There's the "Union Vaults," to the poorhouse it leads,
Where many a poor drunkard repents of his deeds;
Bewailing his folly in entering a place

That has brought him to poverty, shame, and disgrace.

There's the "Cemetery Vault," that plainly doth say

To the churchyard and grave, "You can pass through this way;"

A way by which thousands have passed through before,
Whose premature end their survivors deplore.

There's the "White Horse" of death, and the "Black Horse" of hell,

Which of judgment and punishment strikingly tell, Reminding each one of the words God has given"No drunkard shall enter the kingdom of heaven!"

And over each sign a red lamp is suspended,
To trap the unwary, no doubt, 'tis intended;

But, remember, where'er this red lamp throws its sheen,
'Tis a signal to warn you of dangers unseen.

You ask me how I live.

YOU ASK ME HOW I LIVE.

JOSEPH HOBBINS.

IVING friendly, feeling friendly,
Acting fairly to all men,

Seeking to do that to others
They may do to me again,
Hating no man, scorning no man,
Wronging none by word or deed:
But forbearing, soothing, serving,
Thus I live-and this my creed.

Harsh condemning, fierce contemning,
Is of little Christian use,
One soft word of kindly peace

Is worth a torrent of abuse;
Calling things bad, calling men bad,
Adds but darkness to their night,
If thou wouldst improve thy brother
Let thy goodness be his light.

I have felt and known how bitter
Human coldness makes the world,
Ev'ry bosom round me frozen,

Not an eye with pity pearl'd;

Still my heart with kindness teeming
Glads when other hearts are glad,
And my eyes a tear-drop findeth
At the sight of others sad.

Ah! be kind-life hath no secret
For our happiness like this;
Kindly hearts are seldom sad ones,
Blessing ever bringeth bliss;

Lend a helping hand to others,

Smile though all the world should frown,

Man is man-we all are brothers,

Black or white or red or brown.

Man is man through all gradations,
Little recks it where he stands,
How divided into nations,

Scattered over many lands;

Man is man by form and feature,
Man by vice and virtue too,

Man in all one common nature

Speaks and binds us brothers true.

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Charley Rivers' Choice.

CHARLEY RIVERS' CHOICE.

JOHN RICHARD KAIGHIN.

'TIS sunny June: the birds are out

On every quivering leaf and bough;
And merry children with a shout
Through forest, aisle, and arcade go.

The glistening grass spreads far and wide,
And graceful fern and flower bright;
And rippling like a sun-lit tide,

Fair corn-fields stretch far out of sigh..

They rambled on in harmless glee,

Past wood and vale and meadow gay;
Thro' scented lane where bluebells free
Tossed heads at lilies o'er the way,

Till close beside the ivied church
Emerged to view a farmstead old,
Where sable jackdaw made a perch,
And chattered garrulous and bold.

Hither the children bounding came;
Fair girls whose cheeks were glowing red,
And boisterous boys with fun aflame,
To sport and merry frolic wed.

Loud were the welcomes that arose,
And many voices greeting made;
The tide of pleasure swells and grows,
High merriment o'er all hearts swayed.

The afternoon flies swift away,

The youthful guests obey the call,
And from their romping and their play
Assemble in the quaint old hall.

The festal board is richly spread,
Freely the wine is handed round;

And "Drink," the smiling hostess said,
'My youthful friends in duty bound,

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"Drink ye, and toast your playmate's health,
Whose birthday here ye celebrate;

Long life and happiness and health
Be his; may honours on him wait."

Charley Rivers' Choice.

Right rapturously the guests obey,
The foaming glass, each eager drains
With shout, good wishes, and hurrah;
Save one, whose glass untouched remains.
"What! Charley Rivers, drink you not
In honour of my boy, your friend?"
The hostess cried, while to the spot
The eyes of all the guests attend.

And one did sneer "Oh, Charley's one
Of those deluded water folk;
And poured contempt his head upon

Who flushing sat, nor moved nor spoke.

"Come Charley," said a bright-eyed girl, "Drink from my hand, or here I vow I'll never be your playmate more,

Come, drink for me this sweet wine now."

"Drink, drink it up," the guests all cried,
"'Tis sweet and rich and good, you know;

Your foolish promise cast aside,

Your good respect and wishes show."

"Come, Charley Rivers, drink it up," The hostess cried with angry mien; "For my sake drink, if but one sup,"

Said he whose health had toasted been.

The gibes and sneers had ceased; all stood
Watching the quivering lip and eye;
And marvelling at his stubborn mood,
And wishing that he would comply.

"Drink instantly, or else retire,"

The hostess cried, "no more delay;"
His neighbour held the glass up higher,
But Charley rose, pushed it away,

And said "Not e'en for guests or thee
Will I my sacred pledge resign;

I'll gladly toast in water free

But never in the sparkling wine."

He bowed and left the room, nor e'er
Had reason to regret his choice;
For they who for their conscience dare,
Hear sweet and oft its praising voice.

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