On one occasion we had a harder arithmetic lesson than usual, completely baffling our small brains. Upon compating notes at recess, none of us had mastered it.

"I'll ask Abby of her success,” said one of my intimate associates.

"It is quite unlikely she has," I replied; "do stay here; beside, what if she has?"

"I will go," she answered.

Away she went, and, as it appeared, Abby and she were the only members of the class ready for recitation. Abby had been more successful than the rest of us, and kindly helped my friend to scale the difficulties of the lesson.

'Shall we ask Abby to join the sleigh-ride?" asked ore of the girls, who was getting up a subscription for a famous New Year's ride.

"Judging from her dress," I said, "if she goes, we must give her the ride.”

"But how will it do to leave her out?" they asked.

"She does not, of course, expect to be asked to ride with us,” I said; “she is evidently of a poor family."

As a sort of leader in school, my words were influential, and poor Abby was left out. How often did I compare my white hand and warm gloves with the purple fingers and cheap mittens of my neighbour Abby. How miserable I should be with such working hands and no gloves.

By-and-bye I took to patronizing her. "She is really a very nice creature, and ought to join us more in our plays," we said. So we used to make her " one of us" in the play-ground. In fact, I began to thaw towards her very considerably. There was something in Abby which called out our respect.

One Saturday afternoon, as I was looking out of the window, wishing for something to do, my mother asked me to join her in a little walk. On went my new cloak, warm furs, and pink hat, and in a trice I was ready. We went first to the stores, where I was very glad to be met by se

veral acquaintances in my handsome winter dress. At last I found my mother turning off into less frequented thoroughfares.

"Where, mother," I asked, "in this vulgar part of the town?

"Not vulgar, my dear," she said. "A very respectable and industrious part of our population lives here!"

"Not fashionable, certainly," I added.

"And not vulgar because not fashionable, by any means," she said; for you may be sure my false and often foolish notions were not gained from her. She stopped before a humble-looking house, and entered the front door.

"Where are you going?" I asked with much curiosity. She gently opened a side door, and hesitated a moment on the threshold.

"Caroline, come in," said a voice from within. very happy to see you."

"I am

"Pray, don't rise, dear," said my mother, going forward and affectionately kissing a sick lady who sat in a rockingchair. "You look better than when I saw you before. Do not exert yourself."

I was introduced, and I fancied the invalid looked at me with a sort of admiring surprise as she took my hand and hoped I should prove worthy of such a mother. Then, while my mother and she were talking, I sat down and took notes with my eyes of everything in the room. It looked beautifully neat, and the furniture evidently had seen better days. By-and-bye mother asked for her daughter.

"Gone out on some errand," said the sick lady. "The dear child is an inexpressible blessing to me," and tears filled her eyes.

"A mother might well be thankful for such a daughter. She is a pattern my child might safely imitate."

I thought I should be exceedingly glad to see the person my mother was so willing I should copy. "She will return soon," said the invalid.

"She has gone

to carry home some work which she has contrived to do in her leisure moments. The self-sacrifice of the child is wonderful. She seems to desire nothing that other girls of her age generally want. A little while ago, an early friend, who had found me out and befriended me as you have done,"―tears came into the speaker's eyes,—" sent her a handsome winter's dress. 'O mother.' she said, 'this is too expensive for me, when you want some warm flannel so.' I told her it was just what she needed. A few days afterwards she went out and came home with a roll of flannel and a calico dress. See, mother,' she said, 'I shall enjoy this calico a hundred times more than the finest dress in the world, when you can have your flannel.’ Excuse me for telling it, but you know a mother's heart. There is her step; she is coming."

66

The outer door opened. How I longed to see the comer! A perfect angel," I thought, so generous, so disinterested, so good; I should love her." The latch was lifted. A young girl entered, and my school-fellow Abby stood before me. I could have sunk into the earth for very shame. How wicked my pride! how false my judgments ! Oh, how mean did my fine winter dress appear before the plain sixpenny calico!

I was almost sure my mother had managed all this, for she had a way of making me see my faults, and making me desire to cure them, without ever saying much directly herself. This, however, had not come about by her intervention; God taught me by His providence.

As we walked home, my mother gave me an account of Mrs. G- an early friend who made an imprudent marriage. Bu that story is no matter here. I will only add, that my ju ment of people was formed ever after according to a truer andard than the dress they wore, and that Abby and I became intimate friends.-Child's Paper.

66

Nothing but Tasteless Bread and Butter.

A CHILDREN'S STORY.

BY H. A. GLAZEBROOK.

OTHING but tasteless bread and butter," discontentedly muttered Gerty Vivian, as she glanced at the breakfast spread out before her.

"Your Ma said you must not have anything besides bread and butter for your breakfast, Miss Gerty," replied her nurse, who was standing near.

66 I shall not touch it. I have no appetite for tasteless bread and butter," rudely replied Gerty, turning, with a scornful lip, away. "There is many a poor child, Miss Gerty, who would be glad of your breakfast."

"I don't want to hear about poor children. It is nothing to me what they would be glad of. If I were a poor child, it would alter the case, but I am Gertrude Vivian, and my papa can afford better things for me than tasteless bread and butter, which will do well enough for the servant's hall. You can remove it at once. I shall not touch it."

Thus spake Gertrude Vivian. Gerty was a spoiled child. Her mamma, being a fashionable lady, left Gertrude very much to the care of the servants, who did not think the best way to obtain the favour of their mistress would be to continually fill her ears with the recital of ner little daughter's naughty, wilful ways. Consequently, Mrs. Vivian knew very little of Gerty's passionate temper and overbearing disposition.

This morning Gerty was unusually trying. Nurse almost got out of temper with her. "What will you have for your breakfast, Miss Gerty?" asked nurse, with a slight frown on her face.

"I'll have some-some jam and tarts, and something nice, Bessie. Make haste, and fetch them for me; I'm nearly starving."

Nurse went down stairs to look for the jam and tarts. As she returned she met Mrs. Vivian.

"What purpose are you intending those for?" she asked, pointing to the white flaky tarts, and golden coloured jam. "Miss Gerty can't eat her bread and butter, ma'am; so she told me to fetch them for her."

"She did?

again."

Very well.

I tell you to take them back

Mrs. Vivian entered the nursery. Gerty started with astonishment to see her mamma at such an unusual time. "Gerty, love, you have not commenced breakfast yet.”

"There is nothing to eat, mamma," replied Gertrude plaintively.

"I can't eat tasteless bread and butter," pouted Gerty. "You must eat it, love."

"I can't; in fact, ma, I shant!"

"You won't Gertrude Vivian? Do you know whom you are speaking to—"

"What's up! what's up! what's up?" asked Colonel Vivian, who had chanced to hear the dialogue, as he passed the door of the nursery.

"Gertrude astonishes me, Wilfred, positively astonishes me, I assure you, She is actually saucy to me. I never heard of such a thing, never! She is too aristocratic to eat her breakfast. Nothing but tasteless bread and butter,' on my word. Really I wonder if it would satisfy her ladyship if she were allowed to dine off gold, on gold. I should like to see her trying to munch a few sovereigns. Perhaps I had better dissolve my diamond earrings in vinegar for her to drink, also. Tasteless bread and butter,' indeed. If you had your deserts madamoiselle, you would have more tasteless bread and water."