"Oh, how soft that bed must be,
Made in sickness, Lord, by Thee,
And that rest, how calm, how sweet,
Where Jesus and the sufferer meet!
"'Twas the Good Physician now
Soothed thy sickness, healed thy brow,
Whisp'ring, as He raised thy head,
'It is I, be not afraid!'

"God of glory, God of grace,

Hear from heav'n, thy dwelling-place,
Hear in mercy and forgive,
Bid Thy child believe and live.

"Bless her and she shall be blest,
Soothe her and she shall have rest,
Fix her heart her hopes above,

Love her still, for Thou art love."

Our schoolmistresses joined with us in repeating hymns; and I think on Sunday evenings there was a home-feeling diffused among us never felt on week-days; they were thoroughly conscientious and good women, but the idea of relaxing from their inflexible rigidity, in favour of some little lonely home-sick child, never seemed to occur to them. About this time one of the elder pupils began to droop. I had often admired the beautiful fairness and languid blue eyes of S. S., but the pale cheek became suffused with deep rose colour and the eyes seemed to gain lustre and size daily; it was soon whispered in the schoolroom that the gentle girl would soon leave us never to return. The holidays approached, and we were to travel together, part of our road lying in the same direction. S- became faint and exhausted during the tiresome coach journey, but afterwards I was told had recovered its effects. I saw her once more for a few hurried moments at her sister's home, the panting breath with which she welcomed the little schoolfellow to whom she had always been so kind, the glazed eyes, the almost skeleton hand which was laid in mine, told me, child as I was, that her days were numbered. In a few weeks she was laid to rest, "in the sure and certain hope of a joyful resurrection" those who watched her deathbed were thankfully enabled to declare.

Well, my holidays were nearly over; and with a pang which I could hardly express, I looked forward again to leaving the dear old home and all I loved within it, when, one memorable evening, my cousin asked me how I should like to learn with her instead of returning to school? Oh, the wild delight, the ecstacy with which I half stifled her when she told me that my parents had decided that a knowledge of music was not worth to them the deprivation of their child's company, when all else could be taught to me under their own roof by their dear "elder child," as they called my cousin; so my glimpse of school life came suddenly to a close. My beloved parents had decided wisely for the heart if not for the head; and a happier child could not have been found in all her Majesty's dominions than the one who lay down in her own crib in her own home that night.

"Give

IVE it to me young dog, will you?" growled Ben. it to me, I say. It 'ud be no use to a young 'un like you.

It 'ud be the making of me."

"I don't want to keep it myself, Ben," panted Dick; "I want to give it back to the gentleman.'

"Oh, ah! a likely story! Let go, I tell you, or I'll knock your young head off."

"I won't let go,” said Dick, determinedly. "I picked it up, and if any one has it, I shall." So saying he gave another desperate plunge, and was free from the clutches of the strong young ruffian. He dashed forward in the direction he had seen the lady and gentleman take, and met them hastening back, looking on the ground as they walked. They had missed the purse on entering a shop a few minutes after dropping it, and were now coming back in search of it.

"Please, sir, here is your purse. You dropped it on the pavement just agin my basket," said Dick.

"And why did you not return it to me at once, you young rascal?" exclaimed the old gentleman. "You have been looking it over, I suppose, before you troubled yourself to come after me. I shouldn't wonder if you had helped yourself to some of the contents."

"I haven't taken any of the money," said Dick, indignantly. "I haven't opened the purse at all."

"Oh no, very likely not," said the old gentleman, hastily. "Of course it took you all this time to pick it up from the pavement, and to run the length of two streets. It sounds like truth, does it not, my dear ?" he added, turning to his wife who stood by his side, but as yet had said nothing.

"You are unreasonable to talk like this, my dear," she returned. "The poor boy has done you a kindness in finding and returning your purse, and you are talking to him as if he had robbed you."

"I shouldn't wonder if he had," exclaimed the testy old gentleman, catching at this new idea. "It's quite as likely that the young rogue put his hand into my pocket as that my purse dropped out of it.”

"How can you say that, my dear?" said the old lady. "You know there is a hole in that pocket of yours, and I warned you to remember it.'

"And supposing you did warn me to remember it, Mrs. Coleman, do you imagine I have nothing else to think about but holes in my pockets?” The old gentleman was now thoroughly out of humour, and his wife turned impatiently from him, and addressing Dick, who had stood silently watching the husband and wife during this little altercation, she said, kindly, “You are a very good boy to return the purse so honestly, and I am very glad for your own sake that you were not tempted to keep it. Try and act always thus, and God will bless your endeavours to do right. Take this, my lad," she added, placing half a crown in his hand, "it is all I have with me, or I would give you more. I dare not ask my husband for any, you see he is very angry already."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Dick, gratefully, for the old lady's kindly manner and gentle voice, as well as the loving expression of her goodnatured face, had cheered his little heart, and when she turned away to rejoin her husband, Dick hastened back to his stand, where he had again

to suffer from Ben's ruffianly treatment, and to listen to his coarse and abusive language.

"So you've gived the purse back to the silly old cove that dropped it, have you? you young innocence! How much have you made by the job, I should like to know?"

"You hold your tongue, Ben, and let me alone," said Dick. "You're wild with me because I didn't keep the money and share it with you."

"Of course I am, you young donkey! that money was just what 1 wanted; it would have been the making of me. I hate work, and when a purse full of the real thing falls at a fellow's feet, and a bit of a chit like you picks it up and runs off with it to see if nobody won't own it, why I say it is enough to make one savage!"

"And if another was to come in my way," returned Dick, " would do just the same, Ben! Mother always said I was to be honest, and I mean to be."

"All very fine, young clever!" growled Ben, "you can be as honest as you like so long as you don't interfere with my game; but if ever you put yourself in my way again," he added fiercely, shaking his clenched fist in Dick's face, "I'll give you a taste of what I can do for you! Ben Harper ain't the fellow to be balked by a little kid like you for nothing!" So saying he moved off to some distance from Dick, and the poor boy was left alone once more with his partly-filled basket of flowers yet to dispose of. These he tried hard to sell; harder than ever this day. He longed for evening to come, when he should return to the dark hovel which he called home. He meant to give Fred and Nellie a treat. The younger brother as yet knew nothing about the affair of the purse, he had been at home that day, for in the morning Dick had not sufficient funds to stock two baskets. So while he stood anxiously looking into the faces of the passers by, hoping that each one would prove a purchaser, he was revolving in his mind how he should spend his half-crown.

One shilling of he immediately determined on adding to the proceeds of this day, that he might be able to buy a larger quantity than usual of the lovely spring flowers which were now in such abundance in the market. The other eighteenpence he meant to spend as he went home. Freddy had had no boots for some time past, and his poor little feet were sore from exposure to the weather, and Dick had seen a pair which he thought would just do for his brother in the window of a small shop close by, kept by a woman who dealt in all kinds of left-off clothing. He looked at them, and found them already much the worse for wear, but they would be better than nothing, he thought; and so, as the woman only asked sixpence, he paid the money, and putting them under his arm again set off towards home. There was a cook-shop which he passed daily, and into which he often locked with longing eyes and hungry stomach at the tempting food displayed in the window. He was seldom able to do more than look at and smell those savoury viands, but on this evening he went in and bought some meat, enough for all to have a hearty supper, and he

indulged himself, as well as Freddy and Nellie, in a nice jam pie. He bought four, but one was to be put away for the little blind girl's dinner on the following day, when she would be left alone till the evening. These were a great treat to them all, for with most children the love of pastry is strong; and those happy, well-fed little boys and girls who perhaps will read this story, can have no idea of the longing desire with which poor children survey the pastry-cook's stores, and the almost ravenous appetite with which they devour the sweet food whenever they are so fortunate as to taste it.

With little variations the orphan children continued to live in much the same way throughout the whole of the summer, but when the autumn came, and the cold winter approached, the boys found it harder than ever to supply themselves and little sister with even the poorest of food. Dick was quite discouraged, for added to all his other trials he was now constantly in trouble through the malice and persecution of Ben Harper and some of his chosen companions. Close by their stand was a butcher's shop, and from this shop there had been pieces of meat stolen upon several occasions during the last few weeks, and the butcher threatened that if he caught the thief he would punish him to the fullest extent of the law. He was a hardhearted man, and the frequent repetition of the offence irritated his already bad temper. Dick was at no loss to guess the name of the thief, but he dared not even so much as breathe it to any save his brother, and that after they had got far out of hearing of the young ruffian on whom his suspicion rested. By various means which the evil spirit within him from time to time suggested, Ben managed to fix the suspicion of the butcher upon Dick, and also to excite the dislike and distrust of the other boys. It was becoming unbearable, and Dick would have gone somewhere else to sell his few things, but bad as this was he knew of no better, and day by day saw him almost hopelessly coming to the same spot, and leaving it again with the same sad results. Pinched with hunger, and half starved with cold, the thought often came to him that he might as well be a thief as be always bearing the disgrace of being one; and the thought of the two sufferers at home was far worse for him to bear than even his own starving condition, bitter as that was, how bitter only those know who have experienced real want. I have heard persons who are in the regular habit of partaking of nourishing food, when their meal is by any chance delayed, declare themselves to be starving; but how exaggerated is the term! They do not know what hunger really is. They have not yet felt one pang which could even remind them of starvation. Think of existing month after month upon the very plainest of food, and that often in the smallest quantities, and then imagine if you can the state of weakness to which the sufferers are reduced. Thus it was with the poor orphans: for weeks they had tasted nothing but bread; and more than once, as they sat devouring the small portion which scarcely stilled their craving, and left them quite unsatisfied, they spoke of that happy evening when Dick brought home the hot supper purchased with the magic half-crown.