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a large T, but who did not wait to add his other initial. Tommy never would own that he felt giddy, and didn't dare to stay longer, though the boys said it was so.

It was Wednesday afternoon, and many of the boys were as usual, at play about Martin's Cliff. Arty Fisher joined them. A hammer showed its handle from his pocket, and clinked against the iron chisel inside, telling that he was quite ready to climb.

“Now boys, let's see if I can't put my mark highest of all. I'll be first here, anyhow! Who cares for Charlie Williams?"

They all knew what had happened at school. They knew Arty's vexation at his failure, and at the success of Charlie, and they also knew the unmanly spirit he had shown ; but none of them wished to quarrel with him.

“Go ahead, Arty!" cried several voices, as he started.

He went rapidly up the cliff at first; but there was less and less to hold upon as he climbed higher, so that he got on slowly. Twenty-five feet, thirty, thirty-five-all the boys knew from old marks when he reached those points-forty, forty-one; and the boys shouted, “ Highest of all, Arty!" The face of the rock was almost without a break here : still he held on, and gained one foot more ; forty-two-he was two feet higher than the bravest. Then he managed to get out his tools, and clinging to the rock, began to make his mark. Slowly and painfully he worked on at that letter A; for there was danger every moment that he would lose his balance, and fall backward. It was very hard. His limbs trembled under him. He glanced down for a moment, and his foot slipped. Down over the steep rock he fell to the gravel-bed below. He had made his highest mark of all; but it was unfinished.

Arty was carried home, bruised and bleeding, and unconscious. He came to himself to find that a broken arm and other injuries were the results of the day's work. He learned, too, that little Charlie Williams had been the first

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to run for help, and to bring the surgeon; and that, with the heart of a brother, he had lingered near for hours after the accident, offering any service in his power. And then he remembered his sister's words, “I believe Charlie is a Christian.”

The next day Charlie came to see him ; and though he spoke hopefully, and tried to comfort his suffering playmate Arty saw the tears in his eyeş, and knew they were from sympathy. And then Arty came to himself” in another way: he held out his hand, “ Forgive me, Charlie!” That was all he said, but it came from a penitent heart, and a loving word in reply from Charlie made them friends. And so, during Arty's long confinement, Charlie came every day to do what he could to cheer him, bringing his books, and telling him all about the boys and their play.

Charlie,” said Arty one day, “What made you so kind to me when you knew I hated you ?”

Don't Arty; you didn't hate me; or, at least, you wouldn't have if you knew how I felt. And how could I help coming to see you, when you were hurt so badly? Besides, Arty”-and Charlie's eyes were glistening now_" I have given my heart to Jesus ; I'm trying to be a Christian ; and oh, Arty! if you would only try with me, how much we could help each other !"

When Arty's sister came in, the boys were talking softly, but very earnestly.

There is a place in Arty's heart where are written the names of all his playmates whom he loves best ; and on that record the name of Charlie Williams stands "highest of all,” for Charlie conquered by love, and the two boys walk tog ether in love.Children's Paper.

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The Nest in the Maple-Tree.

EARS ago, some kind man had planted

three large trees, which shaded the whole front of a school-house in the city, in summer. The boys' loved to stand beneath them with their hats off, to enjoy the breeze.

Georgie was a monitor in one of the rooms on the second floor, and his duty was to stand at the head of the stairs, and

be sure that all the boys came up the stairs in a quiet, orderly way. He was almost always the first boy at school. One morning he took his place as usual, but soon came very softly into the school-room, saying in a half-whisper, “O Miss Graham, do come here." I followed him on tiptoe, and there, on a bough of one of the maples, two birds were building a nest.

How they chattered to each other, and bustled about, and how busy they were !

Georgie was delighted. "Oh ! how nice it will be !” he cried. “I can stand here and watch them every morning this summer.” Then he added earnestly, “Don't tell the other boys, please, Miss Graham ; I'm afraid somebody will hurt them if you

do.” I knew of only one boy in my school who seemed to me wicked enough to injure these beautiful little creatures who were fearlessly making their home so near us. But I thought, with Georgie, it would be best to say nothing about it.

Every morning Georgie came early and went with me to look at the nest. It was curious to see how many things helped to build it : straw, thread, bits of cloth, twigs, and other things.

“ How can they make such a soft, cunning little house out of such things?”

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“God taught them.”
6. And will God take care of them too ?”

Yes." Georgie was careful to be quiet, and the birds seemed to know him. They grew quite accustomed to see his face at the window, and were not at all afraid of him. One would turn his little head and look with his shining eyes, and then warble two or three quick notes. Georgie thought he said, Good morning! Good morning! We're not afraid ! You wouldn't hurt us! No! no! no! But don't tell ! don't tell!” Perhaps it did—who knows?

But one day Georgie came to me in great distress, “O Miss Graham, William Rumford has seen our birds, and he says he'll come some Saturday, when you can't see him, and steal the nest! You said God would take care of them, but now they'll be killed! It's too bad, it's too bad!”

I quieted Georgie's fears as well as I could, and tried to think what was to be done. William Rumford was the worst boy in school. He was the terror of the neighbourhood in which he lived, and his bad conduct had given me many sad hours. The clock struck nine, Georgie came in, closing the door behind him. Every sound ceased. Sixty boys and girls sat before me waiting for me to open school. We always sang a hymn first. Now their voices went up in sweet harmony, and just as the last note died away, the bird on the tree outside the window struck up one of the loudest, sweetest bird-songs I ever heard. Every breath was hushed, every head bent forward to listen earnestly; bright eyes grew brighter, and when the song ceased a smile played on every face.

I saw that all were touched, and caught a surprised look from William. I took up the Bible, and read those few verses in which our Saviour speaks so beautifully of his care for “ the birds of the air, and the lilies of the field.” Then I told them of the secret which had been Georgie's and mine until lately, how busily the birds had worked at the

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nest, and of the tiny eggs, over which they seemed happy.

I talked thus with them for some time, and as I did so, I saw William's head shake in doubt, and then his eyes fall with shame. “And now,” I said “is there one boy here who can find it in his heart to trouble these dear little birds ? Are you all ready to promise me that they shall still hold their nest in the maple tree in peace? If so, hold up your hands.”

All hands came up instantly but one.

William hesitated just a minute, then the black curls were thrown back as his head came up-his hand rose promptly-his eyes sparkled, and I knew our birds were saved! Birdie had pleaded his own cause, and won his

case.

At recess, Georgie came running to me, “O teacher, I'm so glad! I think God did take care of the birds, though you helped Him just a little bit, for William Rumford says he didn't mean it when he said he'd steal the nest, and he should be ashamed to touch them now."

After this we all watched the birds, and through the whole summer I could offer no greater reward than to allow a good scholar to rest five minutes, and stand by the window, where he could feel the breeze and look into our nest in the maple-tree.

The Christian uot afraid. The true Christian is neither afraid of dying nor living: he desires to go to heaven to see Christ, yet is willing to stay upon earth to serve Christ.

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