fruit through the bars, and then snatching itaway before he could eat it. Uncle Rupert said he longed to die; but hesaid one thing, Pussy, which I must always remember, only I'm afraid youwon't understand this. He told me how glad he was that when he was alittle boy his mother had taught him a great many texts and hymns. Theyall came into his mind then, and they comforted him very much, and madehim remember that God was near him, even in the cage. So he was patient,and at last he was saved, for some English soldiers marched to thevillage, and the Chinese ran away and left the cage behind them, and youmay be sure the soldiers soon got Uncle Rupert out.
GOOD NIGHT.]
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A THANKOFFERING.
Ada Fortescue was recovering from a long and dangerous illness, and forthe last week she had been able to lie on a sofa near the window, andsee the people passing through the street as they trudged on their wayto the city. Ada was twelve years old; and as she lay on her sofa shehad many thoughts, some very serious, but most were happy and grateful.
Ada was Dr. Fortescue's only child, and her mother had been dead foreight years. During her illness Ada had often seen how grave her fatherlooked, but now his thankfulness brought tears into her eyes. It was sonice to be loved so very much, thought Ada.
To-day a very absorbing thought was in her mind, and she looked up anddown the street with more than usual interest. That morning her fatherhad told her that he had put aside a sum of money as a thankoffering forher recovery, and she might choose the way in which it should be spent.What should she do? Ada thought of the missionaries far away, of the newchurch close by, of the hospital, and the orphanage.
At that moment a noise in the street attracted her attention. A man wasloudly scolding a little boy, who was crying bitterly. The boy lookedpale and tired; and Ada felt very sorry for him, so she opened thewindow to hear what was the matter. The man had come out of his shop,and was saying angrily, "Do you think I have nothing to do but giveglasses of water to every vagabond who goes by? Be off with you, anddon't stand there crying and making a crowd collect," for some of thosewho were passing had paused to find out what was the matter.
Ada rang the bell and sent the maid out to the little boy, who camethankfully for some water, only the water was nearly all milk, and therewas a bun and a piece of bread for him besides. What a happy little boyhe felt, and what a happy little girl was Ada as she met her father atthe door of her room, saying, "I know, I know! a _drinking fountain_,father!"
At first Dr. Fortescue could not understand what she meant, but when sheexplained he thought it was a very good idea.
Some months later when Ada had a bad cold and was up in her room oncemore, it amused her to watch her drinking fountain, which was in theopposite wall, and see all the people who drank at it, and she was veryglad when one day she recognized the little boy who had first put theidea of a drinking fountain into her head. He had a roll in his hand,and wore a nice tidy suit of clothes; and when Ada sent the maid toinquire after him she heard that he was on the way to see his motherwith a quarter's wages in his pocket, for he had got a good place andmeant to do all he could to keep it.
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ONLY AN OLD COAT.
A TRUE STORY OF A FAITHFUL DOG.
"Only an old coat! That's what it is surely, but that old coat cost me agood friend, it did. Poor old Tinker was worth more than a dozen coats."So said Eli Watton, as he put the old coat over his shoulders, andsettled himself in his donkey-cart with a man by his side who had askedfor a lift.
"Who was poor old Tinker?" asked the stranger.
"My dog," answered Eli, "and a better one never followed any man. Poorfellow! though he weren't much to look at. Well, I'll tell you how itwas I lost him, poor chap. Every Friday I have to drive into town tofetch the clothes for my wife to wash, and I often had to go in again ona Monday with clean ones. Tinker, poor fellow, used to go with me mosttimes, but I never gave much heed to him. He'd always follow without aword. He was an ugly brute, people used to say--a sort of lurcher, andhe never got much petting from any one.
"Well, one day I drove as usual, and I had this old coat over the basketof clothes. When I got to one house I suppose I pitched the old coatout, but I never heeded it; and I never noticed whether Tinker was withme or not. That night we missed Tinker; and my wife couldn't think whatI'd done with the old coat, and I couldn't remember anything about it.
"On Monday I had to go to that same house, and there I found my poor oldTinker dead; they'd had him shot. I _was_ in a way about it, I can tellyou. It was in this way, you see. This old coat was in a doorway, whereI suppose I threw it when I was taking down the basket. Old Tinker saw Ileft it there, and he sat down upon it to keep it safe for me, showinghis teeth at anybody who offered to touch it. The servants gotfrightened; they tried to beat him away, and they tried to coax himaway, but he wouldn't stir, and at last they thought he must be mad, andtold their mistress. She came and did all she could to coax the dogaway, for he was right in the way when they went out or in; but hesnarled at them all. He must have been pretty near starved, lying thereall Saturday night and Sunday, and I dare say he did get fiercer andfiercer, so at last they got him shot.
"I've never had a dog along with me again. I don't suppose I shall everget one like Tinker. I always think of him when I take up this oldcoat;" and Eli gave his donkey a cut with the whip, and I am not sure ifthere was not something like a tear in his eye as he thought of his lostTinker. What did it matter that he was an ugly dog? He did his duty tothe end of his life, and which of us can do more?
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AMBITION.
I often wonder how Papa Can like to go to Town,And sit all day with pen in hand, And write those figures down;
When he might take a boat and go A-sailing on the streamAnd with his rod and line and reel Go fishing for the bream.
I think it must be that he likes To take the train and rideBut I would travel round the world And see the other side;
Find out where the Equator's drawn And what the Poles can be,And where the sun goes when he's Beyond the shining sea.
F. Wyville Home.
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THE GOOD AND BAD FAIRIES.
Two houses stood side by side, as much alike as two twins. Honeysuckleand sweetbrier climbed over the rustic porches, flowers bloomed gayly inthe gardens, and the warm sun shone equally on both. In each lived alittle girl who had an invisible fairy companion. The children were thesame size, the same age, and had the same advantages, with thisdifference, that the one fairy was good and the other bad.
A ray of sunshine glides through the window into the first house, andshines encouragingly on little Minnie, who is trying to do her lessons.
But the bad fairy has set her pygmies to work. One persuades her thatshe will do her lessons better if she sits in an easy-chair, anotherputs a cushion at her back, while a third fans her face so gently thatthe soft breeze, fragrant with honeysuckle and sweetbrier, soon sendsher off to sleep, but not to rest. To her dismay the pygmy sweep comesround the corner, and with his sooty brush sweeps the pages of her newatlas. The coalheavers turn over her inkstand upon it, and the blackfluid comes streaming down. Aunt Susan's sharp voice calls out, "Mindyour dress, you naughty child."
Minnie puts her hand across it; but the fireman quickly pulls aside thetable-cloth, runs his finger down the stream, and her lap is a pool ofink.
"Won't you catch it?" says an old woman, with a delighted chuckle; andthe pygmy under the table crawls out, grinning with pleasure.
"We can take the horse to the water, if we cannot make him drink,"shouts a newsboy in her ear; and with a great deal of tugging andthumping she feels herself driven closer to her books. But idle handsmake an idle brain, and the pages seem only a blank.
"How long wilt thou sleep, lazy one?" cries a grave face in spectaclesand lawns. With a sleepy feeling she turns her head away from his sterngaze, only to meet the sterner faces of the judges, who are examiningher untidy copy-book.
"Not a single line written this morning. What have you to say inself-defence?"
"Please, sir, the acrobat had my pen balanced on his nose," said Minniefeebly.
"An excuse is worse than a lie," answered one of the judges; "for anexcuse is a lie guarded." The book closed with a bang, and the judgemarched off to consider the verdict.
At this moment Minnie started up in a fright, to find the dinner-bellringing, the inkstand upset in her hurry, and no lessons done.
And now she had to go and wash her hands and make herself tidy fordinner. What would mother say when she came to know how little Minniehad done that morning?
A ray of