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"Where? Who is he? What is he?"

"A jail-bird ;" and the pedlar swung his pack over his shoulder. "That boy, young as he looks, I saw in court myself, and heard him sentenced-'ten months.' You'd do well to look carefully after him.”

Oh! there was something so dreadful in the word jail : the poor woman trembled as she laid away the things she had bought of the pedlar; nor could she be easy till she had called the boy in, and assured him that she knew that dark part of his history.

Ashamed and distressed, the boy hung down his head; his cheeks seemed bursting with the hot blood, and his lips quivered. "Well," he muttered, his whole frame shaking, "there's no use in my trying to do better; everybody hates and despises me; nobody cares about me."

"how came you to go so Where is your mother?" with a burst of grief.

"Tell me," said the woman, young to that dreadful place? "Oh!" exclaimed the boy, "Oh! I haven't no mother! I haven't no mother ever since I was a baby. If I'd only had a mother," he continued, while tears gushed from his eyes, "I wouldn't have been bound out, and kicked, and cuffed, and horsewhipped. I wouldn't have been impudent, and got knocked down, and run away, and then stole, because I was hungry. Oh! if I'd only a mother."

The strength was gone from the poor boy, and he sank on his knees, sobbing great choking sobs, and rubbing the hot tears away with the sleeve of his jacket.

The woman was a mother, and though all her children slept under the cold sod in the churchyard, she was a mother still. She put her hand kindly on the head of the boy, and told him to look up, and said from that time he should find in her a mother. Yes, she even put her arm round the neck of that forsaken, deserted child;

she poured from her mother's heart sweet kind words, words of counsel and tenderness. Oh! how sweet was her sleep that night; how soft her pillow! She had plucked some thorns from the path of a little sinning, but striving mortal.

That poor boy is now a promising man. His fosterfather is dead, his foster-mother aged and sickly, but she knows no want. The "poor outcast" is her support. Nobly does he repay the trust reposed in him.

"When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up."-Children's Friend.

THINK WHAT TO SAY.

XENOCRATES, an ancient philosoper, used to divide each day of his life into several parts, appointing each part to its proper engagement. One part he assigned to Silence, -wherein to think what to say. If the example of this great man, in this particular, was followed by every one, what happy scenes would many families present!

THE LITTLE BOY WHO HAD NEVER HEARD OF JESUS.

He was not born in the world's dark ages, when there were no Sabbath-schools, and but few Bibles. He lived not in a heathen land, in pagan Africa, or benighted India. Nor did he dwell in a gipsy tent, or in an Irish mud-cottage. It was just outside an English town that I met him, one beautiful afternoon in June. He was a rosy-cheeked, sharp-looking little fellow, and his bright eyes told of intelligence within. As I came up to him on the foothpath, I said, "Do you go to the Sabbath school, my little boy?"

"No, sir," was the answer.

"Well, can you tell me who made you?" I asked.

He looked right into my face, as though he thought the question strange, and then said, "God."

"And have you ever heard of the Lord Jesus Christ?" I asked.

This seemed a stranger question still, and there was a curious smile on his face as he answered, "No."

Never heard of Jesus! Surely he had not understood me, I thought. So I said again: "What, have you never heard of Him who died on the cross for you?"

He shook his head, and gave the same answer, “No, I never have."

Poor little boy! He must have been nearly eight years old. And yet, living in Christian England, just outside a town where there are three Sabbath schools, he had never heard of Jesus!

Young readers, there are many such; some in our land, and many in lands afar off. Let us pity them. Let us pray for them. Let us seek them out, and tell them how Jesus came into the world to save sinners. Ought we not to be thankful to Jesus, that we know his name? We have kind parents, loving teachers, and pleasant books, all joining to tell us about the Saviour; and lead us to him. While we are thankful, let us not forget those who are not blessed in this way.—Early Days.

"HUNGER IS THE BEST SAUCE."

"THIS is very bad soup, mother; I cannot eat it," said little Martha Jones, in a peevish tone, putting down her spoon.

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"Well," answered her mother, do not eat it unless you like, you shall have better soup for supper."

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After dinner, Mrs. Jones went to the field to take up potatoes, and took Martha with her. They both worked very hard all the afternoon, and Martha was so tired

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gathering potatoes, that she could scarcely walk home; so her kind mother was good enough to wheel her home in the wheelbarrow.

After they came in, Mrs. Jones gave Martha some soup. As soon as she tasted it, she said, "What good soup; this is quite different from what I had at dinner; t is very nice indeed;" and she ate all that her mother had given her. When they had finished supper, Mrs. Jones said to Martha, with a smile, "You have had the same basin of soup for supper that you would not eat at dinner; but now you think it better, because you are really hungry after your work in the fields. You see that 'Hunger is the best sauce.'

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Some children are very apt to say, "I do not like this," and "I cannot eat that." Let them try the dish they dislike with the sauce we have just recommended, and they will find it very good indeed.-Children's Paper.

GRIEVE NOT THE SPIRIT.

HE that sins against his light will at last sin away his light.-Dyer.

MISSIONARY NOTES.

"Thy Kingdom Come.”

A Persecuted Daughter.

MONTSIOE, a Barolong chief, has a daughter not more than twenty years of age, who is married to a seriousthinking young man, and who herself is a believer. After the chief had determined to crush Christianity among his people, he felt of course that he must "begin at home.' Accordingly he forbade his daughter to attend the public worship. He was obeyed in this; but the heads of the church endeavoured to make up to her what loss she might sustain by her obedience to this cruel command, by regularly sending one of their number to read portions of Scripture which had been read in the meeting, and to mention something of what had been said.

Montsioe finding this out, and learning that she continued to sing and to pray in private, separated her from her husband, and removed her to his own house. She was forbidden to read or pray, or, in short, to be a Christian. The young disciple evaded part of this injunction by carrying about with her her Sechuana hymn-book, which she read in her secret devotions. This being discovered, she was ordered to put off her European clothing, and to return to heathen attire, which it was supposed would afford her no means of secreting books about her person. However, she was not to be baffled, but, with the assistance of the old women, contrived a place by which she still carries about with her the Sechuana hymn-book. She pays stolen visits to old Moléme, who encourages her to hold fast her confidence, and who, in giving me this account of her, said, "I fear not for her; the Spirit of God is strong within her."-Rev. R. Moffat.

A New Dictionary.

FROM Madras, August 10, Mr. Winslow writes, that, through the good hand of God upon him, he was permitted to see the Tamil and English Dictionary, upon

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