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searching wind came from the north, or east, it easily found a way in through these wretched substitutes, and played mad pranks with the old crazy planks, and rattled about among the loose shingles as it pleased. The snow, though a more silent intruder, stole in through many of the chinks and crannies, so that after a snow-storm, the poor, shivering people, who lived in the highest story, found little heaps of snow, which had sifted through the roofs of the comfortless dwellings.

The reader may ask here, what has this to do with Dick Wilton and his sled Dauntless ? If you will have patience and follow me to the top of the hill, where Dick was standing one morning with his sled Dauntless, I will tell you.

“Dauntless has been down five times,” said Dick to the group of boys who were standing at the top of the hill. Once more; I'm going this time, and then I'm off, for it's school-time. But it's going to snow again, and we'll have lots of fun to-morrow."

Yes,” said one boy, “it has spoiled our skating, but this is jolly fun.”

“Come on," said Dick. Tom Jones, you are a little fellow, and you've only been down once. Hold on tight. Are you all right? Hurrah, then! One-two-threeoff !”

Away sped Dauntless, little Tom clinging fast to Dick. The sled did wonderfully well this time, guided by his experienced hand. It shot down the hill like an arrow from the bow, and did not stop until it was drawn up almost at the door of one of the cottages, just as a woman was opening it to come out.

She stopped when she saw Dick, and he recognized her. She was an Irish washerwoman, whom his mother sometimes employed.

“Sure and is it you, Master Dick?” she exclaimed. “Your mother promised to do something for me if I was in need, and sure enough I need it now, for my baby, my ¡ittle Mike, has the croup. I'm after being up all night

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poor woman and the long, stormy night. What could he do now to atone for his neglect ?

“ He is dead, Dick," said his mother, in reply to his anxious questions, when she returned. “ He is better off, perhaps : but how much wretchedness and misery we could have spared the poor mother, though we might not have prolonged the life of her child !”

“Can nothing be done? What can I do?' Is it too late?” asked Dick, sadly.

“She would have asked aid elsewhere, if you had not promised her to speak to me. She waited all day hoping I would send or come to her. The child grew worse ; she did not dare to leave it; and some time during the night, she cannot tell when, for she was without fire or light-the messenger came and took the poor baby away from its 'mother, who could only tell that it was dead from its growing colder in her arms."

“ I did not kill it mother. Was it my fault?” asked Dick, in a tremulous voice, the tears standing in his eyes.

“ No, I do not think life could have been spared. But, my son, the poor do not often come to us in their need. When they do, shall we send them away empty? By so doing, shall we not merit the condemnation pronounced by our lowly Master ? Depart from Me, ye cursed. For I was an hungered, and ye gave Me no meat. I was thirsty, and ye gave Me no drink. I was a stranger, and ye took Me not in ; naked, and ye clothed Me not ; sick and in prison, and ye visited Me not.'”-American.

6

The Power of Sacred Song.

HUNGARIAN nobleman lost a daughter whom he most tenderly loved. The circumstances of her death aggravated his grief, and he became quite inconsolable. Two years passed, and brought no relief. His grief settled down into a fixed and most distressing melancholy, tending to a permanent mental derangement. All

means were tried which wealth or influence could secure, or an earnest friendship devise, but without effect. Lying on his couch, in a room draped with black, from which the light was excluded, he neither smiled nor wept, and joy seemed for ever fled from his breast. At that time, Mara was the delight of the Prussian Court and of the musical world, for her vocal performances in oratorio and opera. It was proposed that she should sing within hearing of the afflicted father, whose grief had now nearly worn him into the grave. Handel's “ Messiah” was chosen for the experiment; and in an adjoining room that sweet and marvellous voice began its almost more than human strains. At first it had no apparent effect on the nobleman. As she proceeded, he slowly raised himself from his couch to listen, and the heart that had been dead to emotion began to, swell with the rising tide. When she came to the passage, “ Look and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow,” which was rendered with a subdued pathos which brought tears into the eyes of those present, sighs escaped the suffering father, tears flowed from his eyes, and rising from his couch, he ignorantly prostrated himself before a crucifix. But when the full choir struck up the Hallelujah Chorus, his voice mingled with theirs, and his spirit was free. Henceforth he, too, could “sing of mercy and of judgment,” calmly submissive to the hand that had smitten him.

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canvas.

Rescued Children.
OME years since, a lovely picture, the

work of a German artist, fixed the gaze
of many admiring eyes. It was a faith-
ful portrait of Mary—a girl of twelve
years, one of the children of the mission.
Her great beauty had attracted the
artist's eye, and he engaged her to sit as
a model, and painted her sweet face on

There are children of the Five Points who are worthy of pen-and-ink sketches, and first among them I would speak of Samuel Bromberg, who proved himself a little hero.

It was a warm August day, and the children were enjoying their annual picnic at Randall's Island. Some of the boys obtained permission to bathe, and one who could not swim waded out to a rock and seated himself upon it, that he might have some share in the pleasurable excitement. Returning to the shore by a different way, he was swept by a strong current into deep water, and piercing cries of “Help! help !” resounded from the frightened children. One large lad went to the rescue, but soon shook the little fellow off, to save his own life. The boy,'shrieking and struggling, went down several times, when Samuel Bromberg, a boy of thirteen, struck out nobly after him, and made several attempts to save him. His own strength giving way, he almost despaired, but the sight of that drowning boy, slowly sinking, with his fixed eyes and his open mouth, so nerved him that he made one more desperate effort, and succeeded in drawing him upon a rock near the shore, just as help arrived from the play-ground. One may

well believe that three cheers were heartily given for Samuel Bromberg, who had saved the life of his companion at the risk of his own.

Another boy, taken from the mission, became a lieutenant in the United States' Army, while his sister, having received a good education, is the principal teacher in the Sunday-school of the town where she lives.

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Another pupil, a lad named J—, after being some years in the school, was sent to a Western home, where he worked with a farmer on the prairies. The seed sown in his heart in the Five Points' mission-school now sprang up in the purer air. He gave his heart to God, and himself to the work of the ministry. Among his hearers was one who bitterly opposed him, but who, when stricken down by illness, sent for him to visit him. Through the counsels and prayers of the young minister, the man was happily converted, and died a triumphant death.

That man was my brother,” said the gentleman who narrated the circumstance to the missionary. 6. He died in peace, and your former pupil preached his funeral sermon."

A most interesting sketch has been written by Mrs. Wof one of the boys of the mission, from which the following statements are taken : His father, Samuel Bradshaw, came to this country in 1850, when Robert was not quite eight years of age. The mother was suffering from inflammatory rheumatism, in a room in City Hall Place, where she was found by Mrs. W— The family removed to the mission house, and the father, having taken the pledge, and thus conquered his besetting sin, became the janitor of the building, remaining there for eight years. Robert, the second son, being rather self-willed, was sent to a good place in the country. At the death of the gentleman who had taken him, however, he returned home, and for a while behaved himself with the greatest propriety, attending the Sunday-school regularly, and showing great interest in the lessons learned there. Soon, however, he returned to his former habits, turning away from the Sunday-school and all religious helps.

Some years passed, his health began to fail, and though he often came to the chapel, he appeared totally indifferent

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