APA, I do wish to-morrow was come; it will be such fun going to Eden Park, and having a pony to ride on, and Cousin Ralph to play with, and The boy suddenly stopped, as he remarked a grave look flit across his father's face. Papa, aren't you glad I'm going, and alone too?'

Thus directly appealed to, Mr. Milton felt obliged to

He bids me no longer lament and sigh,
He is watching and guiding me, there on high;
Through all the dark paths of the stranger land,
He will lead me on, with a tender hand;

He will bring me safe to His own bright home,
Where grief and where partings can never come,—
Where my darling mother will meet me again,
And love as she always loved,—and then,
Where pain, and sorrow, and death are all past,
Our Christmas joy shall for ever last!'

So he rose and prayed, and dried his tears;
And Fritz lived to know many happy years;
But he never forgot what he dreamed to see,
The angel guide and the heavenly tree.

H. L. L.

A

THE EVIL OF DISCONTENT.

FABLE has been told about an Egyptian who had a nice little garden of leeks; but he was discontented at having to toil for his daily bread. His good genius came to his aid, and made him owner of a villa with two slaves to

wait on him.

He was delighted with the gift, and promised to crave nothing more. It was not long before he coveted the neighbouring garden, with its statues and fountains. The garden was given him, and then he took a fancy to the meadow beyond. The meadow was granted him, and then he wanted the park on the further side of it. The park was bestowed on him, and then, like Ahab, he wanted to rob a poor man of his little vineyard! Open the door to one discontented wish, and you don't know how many will follow.-Daily Bible Teaching.

APA, I do wish to-morrow was come; it will be such fun going to Eden Park, and having a pony to ride on, and Cousin Ralph to play with, and The boy suddenly stopped, as he remarked a grave look flit across his father's face. Papa, aren't you glad I'm going, and alone too?'

6

Thus directly appealed to, Mr. Milton felt obliged to

give an answer, and, drawing his little curly-headed seven years' old son close to his side, he said, 'Yes, Ernest, I am glad you are going to your uncle's; but a little anxious as to how my boy will get on in this his first visit away from home. That you will have much pleasure, I hope; but there will be trials also. I tell you this, not to damp your joy, but to warn you, my child: "Forewarned is forearmed," they say. You remember some of the weapons of defence we spoke of last night, Ernest?'

'Yes, father,' replied the boy; 'kindness, humbleness, meekness, and long-suffering and forbearance; and you said that these arms, skilfully used, were sure, sooner or later, to conquer our most troublesome enemies.'

'Well, Ernest, keep firm grasp of these, and use them as needs be.'

Ernest pondered his father's words for a short time, and then set off to superintend the packing of his carpet bag, making the house ring with his merry laughter, and astonishing old nurse by the drollery of his antics, which was Ernest's fashion of showing the amount of his happi

ness.

The

The morning came at last, a fine sunshiny one. cab drove up to the door, and little Ernest jumped in, proud of being its sole occupant, and feeling quite like a man, in thus setting off to pay a visit alone. 'Goodbye, papa; good-bye, nurse,' he cried out, waving his handkerchief.

'Good-bye, Ernest,' said his father, and don't forget to carry your arms.'

The drive to Eden Park was a pleasant one, especially so to a little boy who, for many months of the year, was cooped up in a crowded city. The green fields, the bright flowers, the sweet singing of the birds, the rural sights and sounds, the indescribable delights of all the 'leafy greenery' which surrounded him on all sides, rejoiced the heart of the child of the city.

Eden Park was reached at last,—a pleasant country house, embosomed in woods, whilst a beautiful lawn, or

rather park, with clumps of fine old trees tastefully interspersed here and there, sloped down in front to the banks of a broad river. At the gate stood a gentleman and two children, the eldest, a fine-looking boy, a couple of years older than Ernest, the other a fair-haired, gentlelike girl of perhaps his own age.

'Here he comes at last, papa,' said the boy, pushing back his little sister somewhat rudely; and darting forward, even in advance of his father, he helped Ernest out of the cab, and shook hands with him heartily. 'What a time you've been in coming, Ernest!' he said. 'I'm quite tired waiting for you. There are ever so many things to be done; we are going to have jolly fun; and I declare the day's more than half gone already.'

Ralph Barton was an only boy, and heir to a large estate. He was naturally of a kind disposition, but of late had become self-willed and overbearing, the consequence of the extreme indulgence of his upbringing : father, teachers, servants, and his little sister,—all yielded to Ralph's whims and fancies; so it was not to be wondered at that he was becoming perfectly unendurable. All this Mr. Milton knew, and was the cause of his forewarning his little son that the visit at Eden Park might not prove all pleasure. But when Ernest laid down his head on the pillow on the evening of the first day of his visit, he thought his father had certainly been mistaken, for everything had gone so smoothly. They had played all sorts of games in the lawn, rowed in a beautiful boat on the river, and every one had been as kind as kind could be; only one thing had startled Ernest a little, and that was, the rude way Ralph spoke to his little sister, snubbing her on every occasion, and answering all her remarks by the sneering observation, 'That she knew nothing about the matter, and spoke just like a girl.' And Ernest, who had no sisters of his own, wondered if all brothers spoke to them as Ralph did to his and Ellen was such a gentle-looking girl, whom he was sure he would like exceedingly. The next