stand."

"That's all well and good when the time comes." cried Bridget, at last, quite out of temper; but before you can get to be an angel, Bobby, you must just want to be a good boy. is the stuff angels are made of; mind that, sir. Put it this way; I want to be a good boy, and with the good boys stand,'-then folks can know how much you mean it."

Good children

Bobby did not like Bridget's view of the case, so he made up a lip, and walked off.—Child's Paper.

caught in the overhanging thicket, and he could not tear himself away.

The lion overtook him and devoured him.

Learn from this not to value things for their outward appearance, but for their inner worth; otherwise you will often have to repent bitterly your unjust judgment.

DO IT IN TIME.

ONLY two or three inches -that was all. If the switchman had moved the track only that little distance, all would have been right. But he forgot; and the train that was passing the station ran furiously into the heavy freight cars, and dashed itself to pieces!

"What was the cause?" everybody asked, when the news of the great accident spread about town.

"Oh! a switch was out of place," was the

answer.

"The switchman was careless. Perhaps he was drunk."

How true it is, as Solomon said: "There is a time for

WE once heard the following touching incident :-A little boy had died. His body was laid out in the darkened retired room, waiting to be laid in the cold, lone grave. His afflicted mother and bereaved little sister went in to look at the sweet face of the precious sleeper, for his face was beautiful even in death. As they stood gazing on the face of one so beloved and cherished, the little girl asked to take his hand. The mother at first did not think it best, but the child repeated the request,

and seemed very anxious about it. She took the cold, bloodless hand of her sleeping boy, and placed it in the hand of his weeping sister.

The dear child looked at it a moment, caressed it fondly, and, looking up to her mother through tears of affliction and love, said, "Mother, this hand never struck me." What could have been more touching and more lovely?

A FABLE.

A MAN in the Mint was told that he might take away one pocketful of gold, if he would run straight home with it and not stop by the way nor touch his pocket So he filled his largest pock. et full of gold and started for home, But as he was running down a little hill, the gold hung heavy, tore off his pocket, and fell down in the road. When he had got home and found his gold and his pocket gone together. "Alas!" said he, "had I taken less I should have more."