fully, that I felt sorry too for having said what I had to grieve them.

"Your mother and I were talking about this the other day," said my father, after a pause, "and we agreed that if it pleased God, he could make you strong and well without the aid of any of the nourishing things to which you refer, and which he has thought fit to deny us the means of obtaining. And if not-what then, my boy ?"

"His will be done," replied I, softly.

My father laid his hand upon my head, and smiled his own bright, cheerful smile. "Yes, his will be done, John; for he knows what is best about everything."

"Father," said I, "I will try never to murmur again."

"You must pray and trust as well as try, my son. We can do nothing of ourselves—nothing without faith and prayer. We have seen that the rich in this world's wealth are subject to many troubles and temptations; but the blessing of the Lord maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow with it."

"Has Uncle Jabez a great many troubles and temptations ?" asked little Alice.

"Yes, my dear," replied my mother; "he has indeed."

"Perhaps it is that which makes him so

"Then I am glad we are not rich, as perhaps you would be cross too." My mother could not help smiling.

"Can you tell me, Alice," asked my father, drawing her towards him, "who it was that for our sakes became poor

so poor that he had

not where to lay his head ?"

"The Lord Jesus Christ."

"Right, my child."

"Oh, papa, only imagine the Lord Jesus having nowhere to lay his head; no comfortable home, such as we have."

"And all for our sakes, Alice. How thankful we ought to be!"

"I am thankful.”

"And how much we ought to love this good and compassionate Saviour!"

"Father, I do love him. I should think every one must. I do not see how they can help loving him."

I remember thinking, as I gazed on the

bright, earnest countenance of my little sister, that she looked very like our lost "Sunshine,' and hoping that she too was not about to fade away from earth. My father pressed her to him tenderly. He said no more. After a short pause he again opened his Bible, and having read and prayed as usual, we all went to bed, and left him and my mother sitting one on each side of the fire, looking very cheerful and happy.

I was nearly asleep when my brother William put his arm round my neck, and said in a low voice, "John, that is a beautiful prayer, 'Give us this day our daily bread.' It would be a good thing to try never to wish for anything more."

"I won't, if I can help it. But does it mean dry bread, William ?"

"I think it means the necessaries of life, without its luxuries. At any rate, there is no mistaking the words which go before it, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.' it is God's will, John, we must eat dry bread and be thankful."

666

If

Thy will be done,'" repeated I, gently; and in a few moments afterwards I was sound asleep.

D

CHAPTER IV.

THE LITTLE PEARL CROSS.

TOWARDS the end of the autumn Uncle Jabez was taken ill, and sent for my mother to come and nurse him. There never was a better nurse than my dear mother. She went at once, although at much inconvenience, and even expense, for she had to pay an old woman who lived in the village, and in whom she had great confidence, to look after us all during her absence. I do not think that she liked leaving little Charley, for she kissed him several times, and I saw the tears in her eyes. I believe that Mrs. Blake saw them too, for she said, "Never fear, Mrs. Cunningham. I will take good care of him."

"Yes, I know you will; but I have never left him before."

"I dare say not, poor little lamb; but may be you won't be long away."

"I hope not. I shall run home whenever my uncle can spare me. You must all be good

children," added she, turning to us, "and wait on your father when he is at home."

"Never fear, mother," said William, cheerfully "we shall do very well."

"I wish you were not going, though," exclaimed I.

"So do I, John; but it is my duty."

After a few more injunctions she went away, turning back to smile at little Charley, as Mrs. Blake held him up in her arms. We all felt very dull when she was gone, although the good old woman did the best she could; and we were very glad when the time came for my father to return home.

A damp, misty rain fell all that day, and for several days afterwards. My father generally came home wet and tired; and, although William always placed his coat ready for him to change, and even little Alice ran to fetch him his nice warm slippers, he appeared to miss my mother quite as much as any of us. And then he was very anxious lest she should over-fatigue herself.

He never went to see her. He did not think it right, now that the old man was so ill, and knowing as he did how much Uncle Jabez