310 The Little Passenger that did not Pay his Fare.

But Conrad was silenced, if not convinced, by being told that his not understanding was just a sign of his ignorance. But Mr. Morris was not so easily silenced or talked over as little Conrad; and Wellesley, to his great disgust, found all his assertions of superior talent poohpoohed by his father, who declared that, instead of seeking for a more advanced school for his son, he would put him under Conrad's tutor to learn the rudiments of Greek and Latin, which, despite his boasting, he had given good proof that he was ignorant of.

'It is the old story, Wellesley, of "Much cry, little wool;" deeds, not words for me, my boy. And if the loss of the gold medal has the effect of teaching you a lesson on humility, it will be an invaluable one; for in Scripture words,

"WHOSOEVER SHALL EXALT HIMSELF SHALL BE ABASED; AND HE THAT SHALL HUMBLE HIMSELF SHALL BE EXALTED."'

THE LITTLE PASSENGER THAT DID NOT

PAY HIS FARE.

'

ONCE sailed from Leith on board the Edinburgh' steamer. My destination was Rotterdam. On the evening of the second day after leaving the Scottish port, a bird was seen to hover awhile over the vessel, and at last settle on the rigging. Darkness soon came on, and hid the new and unexpected passenger from sight. I was up betimes on the following morning, and on ascending to the deck saw the little bird, a yellow wagtail, with golden breast and white-tipped wings, hopping about the deck among the crew, who were feeding it with crumbs of bread and pieces of biscuit soaked in water. The bird soon grew very tame, and feared not

The Little Passenger that did not Pay his Fare. 311

6

to approach within arm's length of its food-providers. Having satisfied its hunger, it flew off on a tour of inspection. Now it alighted on the cross-trees, now it perched on the railing of the gangway; but it seldom remained long in any place, always returning at brief intervals to the deck, hopping around the feet of the passengers and crew, and uttering its shrill call-notes, as if it would express its approbation of the state of the vessel. As the day wore away, the bird made short excursions into the German Ocean, and sometimes took its position on the top of one or other of the masts. After dinner the captain and I went on deck. On the top of the foremast sat the wagtail. He ought to be rated on the ship's books,' remarked the captain, 'for he is now doing duty on the look-out, and I warrant he'll spy out the land with the oldest seaman afloat.' The signal was made for a pilot, who was quickly on board, and informed us we should sight the land in an hour. The wagtail knew that as well as he. It shook its wings in an excited manner, as if impatient of the moment when it should bid us good-bye. That time soon came. Uttering a shrill cry, its last farewell, it shaped its flight straight from the bow of the Edinburgh,' and soon was lost to sight. In a quarter of an hour after its departure, the man at the wheel, a Dutchman, pointing to a low black bank that lay like a low thin cloud on the horizon, said to me, 'That is my home,' and his eyes sparkled as if tears were in them. The bird also was on its way to its home, far away in the sunny south, where it would remain until spring returned to the shores of England, when it also would return to add liveliness and beauty to our lakes and streams. 'Poor thing!' was the exclamation of the crew; ८ we are glad to have helped the little fellow on his way, although he has forgotten to pay his passage.'

Every kind action meets its reward. Do a kindness to bird or beast, and you will find your heart the lighter for having done so.

312

If Thou Knewest the Gift of God.

IF THOU KNEWEST THE GIFT OF GOD.

ERHAPS there is no cry more striking than that of the eastern water-carrier. 'The gift of God,' he says, as he goes along with his water-skin on his shoulder. It is impossible to hear this cry without thinking of our Lord's words to the woman of Samaria: 'If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith unto thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldst have asked of Him, and He would have given thee living water.'

It is very likely that water, so valuable and so often scarce in hot countries, was in those days, as now, spoken of as 'the gift of God,' to denote its preciousness; if so, the expression would be exceedingly forcible to the woman, as well as full of meaning.

The water-carrier's cry in Egypt must always rouse a thoughtful mind to the recollection of the deep necessities of the people; of the thirst which they yet know not of; and the living water, which few, if any, have offered to the poor Moslems in that great city; and makes him wish and pray for the time when the sonorous cry of Ye aatee Allah' shall be the type of the cry of one bringing the living water of the gospel, and saying, 'Behold, the gift of God!'