son who spoke truth in spite of fear. Oh! Mrs. Prin mins, the next lesson of this kind you try to teac him, and we part for ever!"

From that time I first date the hour when I felt the I loved my father, and knew that he loved me. Fro that time, too, he began to converse with me, an though his talk was often above my comprehension still, somehow, I felt happier and better, and less of a infant, when I thought over it, and tried to puzzle ou the meaning: for he had a way of suggesting, no teaching-putting things into my head, and then leav ing them to work out their own problems.

Not long after the events I have related, I was play ing with a beautiful large domino-box of cut ivory This domino-box was my delight. I was never wear of playing at dominos with Mrs. Primmins, and slept with the box under my pillow.

"Ah!" said my father one day, when he found me ranging the ivory parallelograms in the parlour; "ah you like that better than all your playthings, eh?" "Oh yes, papa."

"You would be very sorry if your mamma was throw that box out of the window, and break it fo fun."

I looked beseechingly at my father, and made

answer.

"But perhaps you would be very glad," he resumed, "if suddenly one of those good fairies yo read of could change the domino-box into a beautifu. geranium in a beautiful blue-and-white flower-pot, and that you would have the pleasure of putting it on your mamma's window-sill."

"Indeed I would!" said I, half crying.

"My dear boy, I believe you; but good wishes don': mend bad actions-good actions mend bad actions."

THE BROKEN FLOWER-POT.

149

so saying, my father shut the door and went out. I not tell you how puzzled I was to make out what meant. But I know that I played at dominos no re that day. The next morning my father found e seated by myself under a tree in the garden; he used and looked at me with his grave bright eyes ry steadily.

66

My boy," said he, "I am going to walk to

town about a mile off), will you come? And, by-the¡e, fetch your domino-box: I should like to show it a person there." I ran for the box, and, not a little roud of walking with my father upon the high-road,

e set out.

66

Papa," said I by the way, "there are no fairies

ow."

"What then, my child?"

"Why-how then can my domino-box be changed nto a geranium and a blue-and-white flower-pot?"

66 My dear," said my father, leaning his hand on my shoulder, " everybody who is in earnest to be good, carries two fairies about with him—one here," and he touched my heart; "and one here," and he touched my forehead.

"I don't understand, papa."

"I can wait till you do, my son."

My father stopped at a nursery gardener's, and, after looking over the flowers, paused before a large double geranium. "Ah, this is finer than that which your mamma was so fond of. What is the cost, sir?"

"Only 7s. 6d.," said the gardener.

My father buttoned up his pocket. "I can't afford it to-day," said he gently, and we walked out.

On entering the town, we stopped again at a china warehouse. "Have you a flower-pot like that I bought some months ago? Ah, here is one, marked 3s. 6d.

Yes, that is the price. birth-day comes again, we is some months to wait. truth, that blooms all the year round, is better than poor geranium; and a word that is never broken, better than a piece of delf."

Well, when your mamma's must buy her another. That And we can wait, son. Fu

My head, which had drooped before, rose again; br the rush of joy at my heart almost stifled me.

.

“I have called to pay your little bill," said my father, entering the shop of one of those fancy stationers common in country towns, and who sell al kinds of pretty toys and nick-nacks. "And, by the way," he added, as the smiling shopman looked ove his account books, "I think my little boy here ear show you a much handsomer specimen of French workmanship than that work-box which you enticed Mrs. Caxton into raffling for, last winter! Show your domino-box, my dear."

I produced my treasure, and the shopman was liberal in his praises. "It is always well, my boy, to know what a thing is worth, in case one wishes to part with it. If my son gets tired of his plaything, what w you give him for it?"

66

66

Why, sir," said the shopman, "I fear we coul not afford to give more than eighteen shillings for it." Eighteen shillings!" said my father; "you woul give that. Well, my boy, whenever you do grow tired of your box, you have my leave to sell it."

My father paid his bill, and went out. I lingered behind a few moments, and joined him at the end of the street.

'Papa, papa!" I cried, clapping my hands, "we can buy the geranium-we can buy the flower-pot," and I pulled a handful of silver from my pockets.

MISSIONARY WORKING PARTIES.

151

"Did I not say right?" said my father, passing his andkerchief over his eyes-" you have found the two airies!"

Oh! how proud, how overjoyed I was, when, after placing vase and flower on the window-sill, I plucked my mother by the gown, and made her follow me to the spot.

“It is his doing, and his money!" said my father; "good actions have mended the bad."

“What!” cried my mother, when she had learned all; "and your poor domino-box that you were so fond of! We will go back to-morrow, and buy it back, if it costs double."

"Shall we buy it back, my son?" asked my father. "Oh no-no-no! It would spoil all!" I cried, burying my face on my father's breast.

“My wife,” said my father solemnly,

"this is my first lesson to our child-the sanctity and happiness of self-sacrifice-undo not what it should teach to his dying day!"

MISSIONARY WORKING PARTIES.

How shall we spend our long winter evenings? is a question which we often hear from young folks. Teatime is so early, bed-time so late; lessons do not last for ever, and we soon get tired of play ;-is there anything else that we can do? We have a plan to propose, by which we are sure that a few hours every week may be pleasantly and usefully spent.

Our plan will be best carried out by young people meeting together. This we are sure they will like. There will, however, be nothing to hinder any little girl from setting to work alone, if she can find no companions to help her.