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"I did go, sir," replied Joseph. "See, here is the pencil, and here is the paper."

"You must have flown; you have travelled three miles. Now, put your pencil in your pocket, and unroll the paper and put it under your vest out of sight, and when you go to your room, take care of it; don't show your pencil to Write to your mother, and tell her that I let you have a pencil and lots of paper."

any one.

Joseph did as he was directed. That night he lay awake a long time. The events of the day seemed wonderful. He felt that he now loved Mr. Easy as a father, and was willing to do anything for him. Then he thought that the good angel must have put it into Mr. Easy's heart to be so kind to him. He had resisted the temptation to steal for the sake of getting one more sheet of paper, and God, he thought, had brought it about so that he had the extra sheet, after all. He saw the hand of God in all this, and made up his mind that if he did right he would be taken care of. The next Sabbath he wrote to his mother, and stated, among other important items, that Mr. Easy let him have a pencil and lots of paper.

A word to the Girls.

OUR every-day toilet is a part of your character. A girl who looks like "fury," or a sloven, in the morning is not to be trusted, however finely she may look in the evening. No matter how humbl your room may be, there are eight things it should contain-namely:

a mirror, washstand, soap, towel, comb, hair,

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nail,

and tooth-brushes. These are just as

essential as your breakfast, before which you should make

good use of them. Parents who fail to provide their children with such appliances, not only make a great mistake, but commit a great sin of omission. Look tidy in the morning, and after the dinner-work is over improve your toilet.

Make it a rule of your daily life to "dress up" for the afternoon. Your dress may not be, and need not be, anything better than calico, but with a ribbon or flower, or some bit of ornament, you can have an air of self-respect and satisfaction that invariably comes with being well dressed.

A girl with fine sensibilities cannot help feeling embarrassed and awkward in a ragged, dirty dress, with her hair unkempt, if a stranger or neighbour comes in.

Moreover, your self-respect should demand the decent apparelling of your body. You should make it a point to look as well as you can, even if you know nobody will see you, but yourself.

Little Carl.

IGHT was coming over a certain little Swe dish town. All day the snow had fallen, and now the cold wind of that northern country blew across a dreary waste of trackless white. Bright fires lighted the spacious kitchens, and gave an air of comfort to the houses which dotted the surface of the The little rosy-cheeked boys and

snow.

girls, tired out with play, had covered their bright eyes with their soft pink lids, and were then journeying in the beautiful land of dreams.

About two miles from the village stood a small, poorlooking house. In summer it might have been quite cheerful, surrounded by a flower-garden, and caressed by vines,

which hid the many imperfections of the old house. Now, however, in the depth of winter, it was very gloomy. The vines were gone, and the glaring snow revealed with great distinctness the blackened boards. On this stormy night, a thin column of blue smoke arose from the chimney, showing that those within had at least the comfort of a fire. The sobs of a child were mingled with the wailing of the wind. Then a manly little voice said:

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'Don't cry, Mina dear, the kind Father will take care of her."

There was silence for a few moments, and then a blast of wind roared down the chimney and rattled the windows. With a cry of terror, the little one said:

"O Carl! hear the wind. Dear mother, do come home to Mina!"

But the unpitying wind creaked and groaned in the leafless trees without, and offered no consolation to the lonely little ones within. After a while, the boy succeeded in calming his little sister. Yes, she was little, though not much smaller than Carl; yet his mature looks and acts gave him the appearance of being much older. He possessed that courage and fortitude which are sometimes seen in boys when the man of the house-the husband and father-is dead.

After quieting his sister's fears, the child said:

"Would little Mina fear to stay quite alone if Carl should go out into the night to seek for mother?”

Her implicit confidence in her brother made the child smile as she said:

"O Carl! do go quickly and find mother. Tell her we have a bright fire by which she may warm her poor cold hands."

This reply seemed to decide the boy. He drew his wooden stool to the side of the wall, and stepping upon it, reached to the hook above him, and took down a well-worn coat that had a home-made look about it. Then he tied an

old fur cap closely about his ears, drew on a pair of clumsy mittens, and kissing Mina and bidding her good-by, stepped out into the dreary snow-this little one, in search of his missing mother. Little did their mother think, when she left her darlings early that morning, that she would not see them before night. Being a poor widow, she was obliged to sew to support the two, who were dependent upon her. She was a delicate woman, and her never-ceasing labour was wearing her down. She could not stop sewing, for then the daily food would cease to come.

That morning she started for the village with an article she had just finished. The snow lay deep on the ground and the storm was still raging, yet she must take this work to the shop that day, or else receive no pay.

The drifting snow made walking difficult, but she hastened on, in order that she might return before the roads were impassable. The storm was far worse, however, than she had imagined, and more than once she determined to return, but thoughts of the needful provisions made her continue her course. When she reached the shop, she was quite exhausted and benumbed with the cold. Weak and faint, she started on her journey. Feeling too sick to proceed, she stopped in one of the houses where she was known, and rested herself. Her friends told her she must not think of returning that day. She, however, declined their kind invitation to remain, and after eating luncheon with the kind family, resumed her walk homeward.

By this time the roads were almost impassable. The snow was still falling, thick and fast, and heavy drifts impeded her progress. Soon after she left the house of her friend, the father returned home in his sled, and when told that the poor woman had been there and had started to walk home, he immediately set out to overtake her; for he said:

"She will surely perish if she attempts to reach her home in this wild storm."

He overtook her some distance from the village, and, as he had expected, she was quite exhausted. He lifted her into the sled, and covering her with the warm robes, urged the horses on; but the high drifts of snow continually blocked the road. Finally he told her that it was useless to attempt to reach home that night. Carl, he said, would be brave, and cheer the heart of the little one.

"He will know that you are safe, and will return to them as soon as possible."

Thus she was obliged to return to the house of her hospitable friend.

As night came on, the manly Carl, remembering that his mother was weak and sick, started out to meet and bring her home. Poor little wanderer! The blinding snow blew into his eyes, the piercing wind chilled him through and through, but his mother, he thought, would need him. He was young and strong, and could help her home to the warm fire which Mina was keeping for her. Poor little Mina, tired out with watching and weeping, soon fell asleep by the fire, and forgot all about the wind in dreams of mother and Carl.

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Onward and onward into the storm plodded the boy. His hands ached with the cold; but 'Mother's hands must be colder than mine," he thought. Colder and colder he grew, but his courage did not fail. At last he raised his face to the dark sky, clasped his little numb hands together, and said:

“O kind Father! please to give Carl some warmth, for he's getting so cold out here

Then he started on again.

in the storm."

Slower and slower he walked.

His limbs were numb, and a dreadful weariness was slowly creeping upon him. After going a few rods further, he again stopped and said:

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