My Children's Picture Book

ELIEZER was Abraham's oldest and most trusted servant, and one day he was sent on a very remarkable journey by his master; it was to fetch a wife for his son Isaac. Eliezer understood the great importance of this errand, for when he reached the country, where Abraham's relatives lived, he prayed to God that he might be guided in speaking to the right damsel as they came out in the cool of the evening to water all their flocks at the well.

God answered the servant's prayer, for he had no sooner finished speaking than Rebekah came to the well, and she was the one who was to be Isaac's bride. When the question was put to her the following day, whether she would go with the man, her answer was most prompt and decided—"I will go."

Next we hear of the meeting of Isaac and Rebekah, and the joy that Isaac had in receiving her, which is a faint picture of how Christ is willing to receive us, if we desire to share His company in the long eternity which lies before us. May we each respond as Rebekah did.

Peacemaker

“WHAT is a peacemaker, mother?” said Hilda Blake, a little maiden about seven years old, as she looked up with inquiring gaze. Hilda had been reading aloud a short portion of the word of God.

The passages Mrs. Blake had selected were the earlier verses of Matt. 5. And it was at the close of the reading that little Hilda asked for an explanation of Matt. 5:9.

"A peacemaker is one who in little as well as in big things strives to reconcile differences, and bring both, parties to a feeling of mutual love and forbearance," replied her mother.

"This verse refers especially to all the little things in our daily lives, and of the blessing that you and I may have, if we really desire to do so." Mrs. Blake gazed tenderly on Hilda's bright face, and inwardly thanked God for the many little proofs of self-sacrificing love that her child had already manifested in His service.

"You can be a peacemaker amongst your own brothers and sisters, Hilda. And perhaps when you are a little older, you may be the same in a larger circle."

The Bee's Lost Sting

I WAS out in the garden one day, said a lad, when a bee came buzzing all around me, and being afraid it would sting me, I called out, Mother! oh, mother! She quickly came to my help and led me indoors; but the bee came in too, and there it was buzzing about us; so mother took up her apron and covered my head with it, that the bee could not get near me.

Well, while I was covered with mother's apron the bee settled on her arm and stung her, but it left its sting behind, and mother shewed it me still in her arm then; she said that that bee could never sting any one else, because it had for ever lost its sting.

And in like way she afterwards explained that Jesus had borne the sting of death for me; that He had destroyed the power of Satan our enemy, and that if I believe that He had really done this for me, my sins would be forgiven, and I might have the assurance that God had accepted me in His own dear Son.

This was the little boy's story, and the gentleman to whom he was speaking could only say, God bless you, my boy, as he bade him good-bye.

Jesus Loves Me

ONE day in a well-known hospital for children, a strange sound was heard in one of the inner rooms.

Doctors and nurses were assisting each other in skilful and kind attempts to relieve pain and restore to health once more.

Many little sufferers were assembled there, and sad indeed was the sight. Poor tiny babes and older children might be found suffering from diseases, in one form or another.

Suddenly in the consulting room a shrill, clear childish voice is heard singing out—

Jesus loves me, this I know,

For the Bible tells me so.

The doctors and nurses looked up in great astonishment, as singing is quite an unusual sound in such a place as that, but one little fellow had broken out with his favorite hymn, forgetting for the moment where he was. The voice soon stopped, and whether it found any response in any other heart present is not likely to be known here, but it may not have been uttered in vain although so innocently.

The Monthly Packet

WE have a picture here of what takes place every month in a great many homes. Especially with those who live in quiet places far from the busy towns. Here the monthly packet is looked forward to and welcomed by old and young. The children's magazines are at once claimed by the young ones, while older ones take up those that contain more advanced reading.

Yes it is very nice to have our monthly papers, each to take one up for himself and herself. And we can thank God that so many are scattered through the country, for as there are so many books that are issued and doing much harm to boys and girls, we need books of pure and true reading for all our young readers who are willing to enjoy them instead of the bad ones. Perhaps, too, some dear child is able to buy two magazines every month, and then give a copy away to those who cannot even get one.

May God bless all such acts of self-sacrifice, done for the good of others and for His glory!

The Sacrifice on Mount Moriah

CAN anything be more interesting than the details of this well-known story of how the long-promised son was taken at God's command to the Mount of Moriah? The unfaltering actions of his aged father as he rose up early in the morning, saddled his asses, and prepared all for the journey.

What thoughts were passing through Abraham's mind we are unable to tell, as they are not recorded, but he evidently felt the solemnity of God's command which he was about to carry out, for he said nothing to the lad beyond the fact that they were to sacrifice to God on the mountain, How must his heart have felt when his boy, in all childish simplicity, said, "Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?" Yet though they were drawing nigh to the place, and seemed to be near to the mount where the boy must die, in accordance with the divine word, Abraham calmly replied, "God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering."

And God stepped in just at the last moment to save the lad by pointing to a ram caught in the thicket.

A Chat with Nellie

TELL me, dear Nellie, do you ever think of the way in which we are kept, day by day, from danger of all kinds, some and some unseen? Yes, father, I am often afraid of getting into danger, of being run over in the streets, or falling down, but somehow I seem always to escape, so perhaps it is God's care over me. Yes, Nellie, surely it is of God's goodness, to keep you in safety. I heard of a woman not long ago who stepped on a piece of orange peel and fell heavily; she could not save herself, and was much hurt.

When I went to school, too, there was a boy who had a deep scar just under his eye; this was the result of a fall from a little chair on to the fire-grate. Some one heard his screams or he might have been burnt to death.

Why did not God save him from that accident, father? Well, my dear, we cannot always tell why God permits things to happen, but no doubt it was for a wise purpose. Perhaps as a voice to his parents, to teach them some lesson for their good, or may be for the boy's own sake, to remind him all through life how near we all are to eternity.

Gleaning

I WAS one day, at harvest time, walking through a country lane when I met a little girl a large quantity of corn. I did not need to inquire where she had obtained it, for I knew at once she had been in the fields gleaning after the corn had been cut and bound into sheaves.

She had been diligently gathering up one little ear at a time, till you see what large bundles she is now able to carry home.

There is a story in the Bible of a young woman who went gleaning in a rich man's field. He was a distant relation of hers, and while he was blessed with plenty, she was living in poverty.

I think the young woman found favour in his eyes because she had acted so nobly to her mother-in-law, for she followed her to a strange country, to be near her and attend to her wants.

God had directed that the gleanings of the harvest should be left for the poor and strangers, but this good man was so pleased with Ruth and the way she had acted to her mother-in-law, that he told his men to let some fall on purpose, that the poor stranger might pick them up and so get a larger bundle.

Taken or Left

ABOUT four or five weeks ago I was waiting on a railway platform, and saw a train come in on the other side. After it had waited a few minutes, the guard blew his whistle, and it began to move off. Just then I heard such a loud and pitiful cry, "Mother, mother, oh, mother!" which seemed to come from a little girl.

The train was stopped, and I ran round to see what was the matter. It appeared that a little girl and her mother and baby were going by the train. The mother and baby had just got in, but before the girl had time to follow, the train started, and she was left behind. I felt very sorry for the little girl, because it would have been very sad for her to be left in the station all by herself, but you see when she cried out the train was stopped, and she quickly jumped in and took a seat by her mother's side.

As I walked away I could not help thinking of the time when Jesus will come and take away all those who are ready and leave the rest behind. Let me ask you, my little friend, Would you be taken or left if Jesus were to come now

Milk for Puss

I WAS on a visit one day to an old friend of mine, and while staying with her another visitor came, or perhaps I should say two, for the lady brought her cat with her. When friends dropped in to see us, the cat, being a very fine one, soon attracted attention, consequently Puss often became the subject of discourse. But the chief amusement was in seeing the clever way in which she would empty a narrow-necked milk-jug of its contents. Not a basin like the one in our picture, but an ordinary narrow-necked jug.

First the servant would bring a cloth and spread it on the carpet, then place a milk-jug thereon. Puss soon understood what to do. She sat close to the jug and put her paw in it, then she drew it out and licked it quite clean; this was repeated again and again, till at last the jug was empty.

I suppose we might teach a cat, as other animals, almost anything, but with all their cleverness, I would much rather have the bright intelligent ways of a little boy or girl, even if they were not quite so clever.

Berty and the Fowls

ONE of the things that Berty Brown most enjoyed while on a visit to his Grandma's cottage in the country, was to feed the fowls. Like many older people, Berty was very liberal with what cost him nothing, and considered that anything his little hands could meet with was lawful property to be given in exchange for the egg which never failed to appear every morning at breakfast.

The fowls seemed to be as fond of Berty as he of them, for as soon as his feet were heard pattering in the yard, they all flocked around him as if they remembered the grapes and cherries which he at times had given them without asking his Grandma's permission.

But Grandma does not forget to teach her little visitor the difference between right and wrong, in a way that we hope will soon teach him that he must not take what does not belong to him even in Grandma's house. He learns to spell J-E-S-U-S on the fingers of one hand, and B-E-R-T-Y on the other, and we trust some day his young heart will know the meaning of being closer to Jesus than when the little hands are clasped in prayer.

Our Dear Old Pet

THIS is our loving, our dear old pet

Who gives us a beautiful ride through the day,

We love her too much to worry or fret,

But take for her supper the choicest of hay.

She needs no whip nor galling spur

To hasten her steps as on we go;

A loving word is enough for her,

And her pace is steady, if rather slow.

When breakfast is over she often comes—

If through the garden gate she can get;

And whether it's apples, or crusts, or crumbs,

It's all the same to our dear old pet.

When Jenny gets old we'll strive to give

The sweetest clover that we can get;

And I really think as long as we live,

We shall never forget our dear old pet.

On the Sea

The sea looked very bright as it reflected the rays of the sun, and we thought we should enjoy a row, so a man was soon found who had a boat. As soon as we got a little way from the shore, we each wonted to try our hands with the oars, so Tom took one, and I the other. We were rowing away nicely, when suddenly there was a loud crash. Tom had broken his oar in two pieces. He had dipped it too low in the water, and pulling hard to get the boat along quickly, there was too much strain on the oar. I do not think any of us knew how to send the boat along with one oar only, and yet as we looked at the one lying in the boat, no one was afraid or thought we should not get home again.

Why was this do you think? Why did we not shout for help? Because we had great confidence in the big sailor man who was with us, and felt sure he would know what to do, and so it proved, for he took up the largest piece of the broken oar and said, “I can row with this; you keep the other oar. So back we went little by little the spot for landing was reached.

Little Playmates

A GREAT many of our happiest days are connected with our childhood. It was so I know with myself, especially if I look back and remember the sunny days of July, when the meadows are at their brightest and best.

What a delight it was sometimes in the calm warm summer evenings, as we, a merry little group of playmates, wandered among the fields gathering the flowers into our pinafores—daisies, buttercups and cowslips—only to throw them away in a short time and gather others.

Happy childhood it is, indeed, if there is but the smallest knowledge about heavenly things. The beautiful flower-coveted hills and dales preach a little sermon to those who have ears to hear, “For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away: but the word of the Lord endureth for ever."

May the little playmates of the present summer and its flowery fields, grow into future workers together as sowers and reapers in God's fields—yea, workers for Himself.

Nellie and Her Friend

CAN you tell me what the two girls in this picture are talking about? I think I know. While out to do a little marketing, Nellie has called at the farm house to see a friend of hers, and is now saying, "Why do you not come to Sunday School, Louie?"

Louie looks very solemn, with her head bent low. She has never been to school, and does not much like the idea of going, but I hope her friend will persuade her, even if it is only to go for once, and I think she will succeed. If Louie does not care to go alone she will not mind if Nellie goes with her, and how happy Nellie will be if she helps her friend to go to school, and helps her also to learn the way to heaven. Oh, that such may be the case!

Has my reader ever known the joy of seeking to help others on in the right way? If not, let me ask you to try now; you can do like Nellie, invite your young friends to go to school with you. They will then hear of Jesus, of His great love to poor sinners, and how He wants us to dwell with Himself in that beautiful place He has gone to prepare.

Forbidden Fruit

WHY does little Maud look around so uneasily while her hand grasps the rich ripe grapes? Ah! I am afraid she is not doing right, for if she had permission to help herself to the grapes she would not mind any who might look at her. Not even the tell-tale parrot on his perch, who somehow has a very unpleasant way of watching wrongdoing, and has managed to pick up a few words, and uses them in a very quaint manner.

When Mamma comes in she notices the bird chattering away, and catches the words, "Not poor Poll, not poor Poll," "Maud-grapes, not poor Poll," which gives her a clue to the missing grapes, and brings down a proper reproof and punishment on naughty Maud.

It is really a happy thing for the little wrongdoings of early days to be discovered and corrected, for temptation often given way to in youth, would lead to sad results as we grow up.

May God graciously give my young readers a real desire of doing that which is right.

He Would Be a Sailor

IN spite of his mother's wishes John was determined to go to sea, so seeing her boy was set on a sailor's life, she found a berth for him, and he was soon on the ocean. I don't think he found a boy's life on board ship exactly what he expected, yet when he had got over his first sickness he settled down to the routine of the ship. The first voyage was only a short one, and after a visit home to his mother, he left his native shores again.

John was never fond of writing letters, so no one was surprised at not hearing from him. But months passed away and no news came. One morning his elder brother at home read an account of the wreck of the vessel in which John had sailed, and the loss of three lives, one of whom was his own brother, giving his age and description.

His sorrowing mother was not quite satisfied with this; she went to the owners of the vessel, but they only confirmed the report as true, and in the course of a few weeks sent her the clothes and belongings of her son. She was thus compelled to go into mourning for her sailor son, although it was so difficult to believe he was really drowned.

Helping Father

A FEW years ago there was great distress in Ireland, and all through the winter many a family was brought near to starvation. In one district where the pinch of poverty was felt, lived a small farmer with his wife and two little boys. He and his wife had often talked over the difficulty in which they were placed, while sharing the few potatoes that too often formed the family dinner.

As the little boys (one of whom was eleven years of age and the other fourteen) saw the anxious faces of their parents, they thought of a way of helping them; that was to walk all the way to Dublin, where a kind-hearted duchess lived, and ask her for the two pounds which was needed just at that time.

They talked the matter over a good many times, and the next day they started on their long journey of two hundred miles. After a few weeks they reached the great city, and when their story, was told to the kind lady, she gave the boys the money they were longing for. What joy was theirs as they commenced the homeward journey, and carried the glittering coins to their father!

A Sick Patient

THERE sits poor Susie; she is very ill, and is all alone but for the doll in her lap, and the sympathising dog looking up at her. He knows not what is the matter with his little mistress, usually so lively and playful, but he feels something is wrong.

She is too ill to take the food at her side, set for her by a loving mother, with the hope that good nourishing food will soon make her well again. Oh, how Susie longs to see the doctor day-by-day, as the hour of his visit draws near, for she is already weary of pain and weakness, and as each day wears away, hope grows strong that the morrow will see some great improvement.

Ah! if Susie had lived long, long ago, when Jesus was on earth, how eagerly would she have gone to Him, or if that were beyond her power, would she not have begged Jesus to come to her? that blessed One who had no need of doctors' remedies, but could, by the word of His mouth, cure the sick, the deaf, and the lame.

But though He is no longer down here, we may still go to Him and ask Him to make our poor bodies well when in sickness.

Brother Ben and I

Do you, my little reader, know

How nice it is to dwell

Beneath a quaint old roof of thatch,

Near many a leafy dell?

If so, you know how pleasant too,

'Tis by the brook to play;

To watch the tiny fishes there,

Or gather flowerets gay.

But there are times when play is o'er,

And we to school must go;

Across the stream the schoolhouse lies,

'Tis near the time, I trove.

Dear brother Ben, please take me o'er,

The brook's so wide and deep;

Your arms are very, very strong,

And safely me can keep.

But I am told that there are arms

Than Ben's more strong and kind,

Those precious, everlasting arms

Believing ones do find.

Italian Wine Seller

THE man in this picture is an Italian. The climate in which lives, as well as habits, produce a certain effect on his face so that many would tell at once that he came from Italy if they were to meet him in this country.

He is a street wine seller. The flasks on his wooden stand contain wine, and the large bottles, one of which he is holding up, contain water. The sun is shining brightly, and the man has taken off his coat and wears a very broad-brimmed hat. In such fine weather he gets many customers. The Italians are generally musical, and the sellers of various things in the street are fond of singing their cries, "A glass of wine!” "A glass of water!" for I must tell you that they also sell water.

But there is water and wine of far greater value that can be had for nothing. "He, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price." What a free invitation this is to every one that thirsteth. Dear children, are not you the very ones?

The Summer Time

SUMMER time is the best part of the year, for not only is all around so bright and pleasant, but many of us have great blessings to enjoy, especially those girls and boys who are able to go to the seaside. Nothing pleases them better than to be busy with their spades and buckets on the sands, or, when tired of that, to search for pretty seaweed in the tiny pools left by the receding tide, and then to rest on the rocks awhile.

I have spent many hours in this way, and then one's thoughts go out in wonder at the power of Him who formed the vast ocean, and praise also that He who can create a world by the word of His mouth, should also have such love and care for us, the creatures whom He has made. He not only at the present time keeps us day by day, but He has thought of, and provided for, our future welfare, and if we are numbered among His own, we shall dwell for ever in His presence; that will be a never-ending summer, or time of joy. What a bright prospect to look forward to! May all my readers share in the joy of that eternity.

In the Garden

ONE bright afternoon, a few summers ago, we had been playing together in the garden. We had been there all the afternoon, for it was half-holiday that day. Among other games we had put up a kind of bower, just large enough to sit under, and when it was complete, the poles firmly fixed, the roof made secure, and seats brought for Harry, Katie, and Cis, the thought occurred to one of us how nice it would be to have tea together in our little bower.

So we went indoors to fetch a kettle, cups and saucers, and other necessary things for a tea-table.

What a tea we had that clay! Although quite a plain one, without cake or anything extra, we all enjoyed the meal very much. But that happy afternoon, like all other joys that are connected with this world, soon came to an end. Then evening closed in, and the cool night air told us it was quite time to leave the garden.

Yes, happy times quickly pass, leaving only the memory of their sweetness. Should we not then seek the happiness that never fades, but will last when all earthly things have for ever passed away?

My First Ragged School

SOME twenty years ago a few of us engaged a room where we could spend the Sunday afternoon together in reading the Bible. We thought it would be a very quiet room, but soon found this was a mistake. The first meeting had only just begun when a large stone was thrown at the door, and then the latch was lifted and in peered a pair of curious eyes.

We could not get on in this way, so we opened the door and invited the children, dirty and ragged as they were, to come in, and we held our first Ragged School. Two of my friends gave them short addresses, and then it was my turn to speak. I tried my utmost to gain their attention and interest, and was just getting them nicely quiet, when suddenly in rushed a boy and cried, “Please, sir, Tommy has got his head in the steps and cannot get it out.”

This quite spoilt our little meeting, and caused all my listeners to run to the door to see how it was. We went down and soon got his head out from the awkward position, but only about half a dozen children returned to the room, and we then tried to teach them John 3:16.

By the Stream

IT is Wednesday afternoon, and as there is no school for the children, mamma has let Emma and Stanley go on a visit to their aunt. This is a great treat for them, especially in the bright spring days, when they enjoy so much the walk through the fields.

Emma and Stanley always linger awhile on the rude bridge over the brook, and gaze with interest at the tiny fish in the stream, so full of life and activity, darting hither and thither. They have no care for the morrow, but just fulfill the duties of to-day, and enjoy those powers which God in His wisdom has given them.

I like to see the loving care with which Emma places her arm round her brother, as if to say, Do not fear to look down, I will keep you from falling in; so with his hands on his knees, Stanley stays a long while trying to count the little things whose rapid movements almost defy the boy's attempt. In the same way that Emma is careful for her brother, may we not say that our heavenly Father in His love and daily care preserves us from all harm? May our hearts learn to trust Him more in all the details of life.

Gideon and the Fleece

AND Gideon said unto God, If thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou halt said, Behold, I will put a fleece of wool in the floor; and if the dew be on the fleece only, and it be dry upon all the earth beside, then shall I know that thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou hast said.

And it was so: for he rose up early on the morrow, and thrust the fleece together, and wringed the dew out of the fleece, a bowl full of water.

And Gideon said unto God, Let not thine anger be hot against me, and I will speak but this once: let me prove, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece; let it now be dry only upon the fleece, and upon all the ground let there be dew.

And God did so that night: for it was dry upon the fleece only, and there was dew on all the ground.

JUDGES 6:36-40JUG 6:36-40

The Parable of the Marriage of the King's Son

THE kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son, And sent forth his servants to call them that wore bidden to the wedding: and they would not come. Again, he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them which are bidden, Behold, 1 have prepared my dinner: my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready: come unto the marriage. But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise: And the remnant took his servants, and entreated them spitefully, and slew them. But when the king heard thereof, he was wroth: and he sent forth his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city. Then saith he to his servants, The wedding is ready, but they which were bidden were not worthy. Go ye therefore into the highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage. So those servants went out into the highways, and gathered together all as many as they found, both bad and good: and the wedding was furnished with guests.

Matthew 22:2-10MAT 22:2-10

Winning the Prizes

THIS boy's name is Alexander. One day he was out walking with his father, and they stopped and looked at some books at a bookseller's shop. Alexander asked his father to buy him one but his father said,"No; when I am more satisfied than I have been lately with the way you learn your lessons, I shall be only too glad to reward you."

The boy was silent, and sorry to find that, through want of diligence at school, he had now lost an interesting book, but made up his mind that for the future he would work harder, and thus seek to please his father.

Six months passed away, and Alexander was again at home. He had not forgotten what he had said he would do, so instead of coming home empty-handed, as he had done before, this time he brought with him no less than four prizes which he had gained at school.

His father was surprised and delighted with his son's success, and did not omit to reward him in a suitable way, so that Alexander had every reason to be glad that he had been more diligent than before.

Harry's Accident

DURING the Christmas Harry met with an accident while playing with some other boys, who were his schoolfellows, and so had to be indoors for the rest of the winter; but when the spring set in he was able to get about again.

And many were the rides he had in the little cart his uncle made, as he was drawn about by his companions, Charlie Hopwood and his sister, with little Floss as outrider, barking and frisking about.

If any one had asked which of the three were likely to die first, I think all would have said the little invalid in the cart. Ah, what mistakes we make. Charlie certainly at the time looked the very picture of health, with his chubby, rosy cheeks; so did his sister.

But the last time the schoolboys met was when Charlie was about sixteen years of age.

Then he became the poor victim of consumption, and fell into an early grave. His sister also followed him a few years afterwards, borne down by the same disease, while Harry recovered, and is now a city man of business.

That holiday was the best he ever had, for the Lord taught him precious lessons of His love.

He Did It for Me

AT one of the children's treats in the green fields, some boys were playing at cricket. The game went on with great spirit, and the first side had had a good “innings,” while the second batch were nearly all bowled out without getting many runs.

The game seemed likely to remain in the hands of the first team, for the last boy who took the bat was lame and sickly, and, of course, there was no hope that he would be able to do much. Just then an active youth standing by asked to be allowed to take the lame boy's place and play for him. No one objected to this, and the new player sent the ball flying through the air time after time, till at last he had really won the game.

Then the lame boy jumped up from the spot where he had been lying watching the game and cried, "I've won it," "I've won it," "No," said some of the lads, "you've done nothing to win the game, it's your friend or substitute who has done it, and it's his game." But the little fellow persisted in his cry saying, “He did it for me, so it's my game. He did it for me. And surely the boy was right in this.

What Does the Watch Say?

I HAVE often held my watch to the ear of a little friend greatly wonders to hear tick tick, coming from such tiny box with such regularity. Fanny does not know that it only goes for twenty-four hours, and then, if not wound up again, would stop, as it does sometimes when I forget to wind it.

The hand with the key is the power that sets the watch going, and when you see boys and girls playing and running about you know that there is a power that keeps life in their bodies. They are very much like this watch, for there is a constant ticking within them, only it is not so loud.

But, little reader, when once your heart stops beating it will not move again in this world. God holds the power of life in His own hands. We may say that He keeps the key. The watch tells us also how quickly time flies, every tick is a moment gone, never to return. Then think of the watch and do not let your time slip away without making good use of it, especially in preparing for eternity.

Oh, do not waste your precious time, be busy while you may; For soon—yes, very soon—your days will all have passed away.

Stealing Blackberries

NAUGHTY boy! What are you doing? Run away from that little girl and leave her black berries alone. Poor child! she has been to the woods to gather the berries, and stayed there a long while in order to fill her basket, not minding the many scratches from the sharp thorns in the hedge, because she wanted to take home a good deal of ripe fruit.

And now this naughty boy is helping himself to her store in the basket instead of seeking for some in the woods where she has been. Lizzie is a gentle girl, and not inclined to offer resistance, but she cannot help the tears coming into her eyes. This mute appeal ought to be enough if the boy had any true feeling about him, but, alas! many boys regard nothing but a power stronger than their own.

I hope none of the boys who read these lines will follow the example of this bad boy, but seek to help and protect any girls who may cross their path, for this would be quite in accordance with the spirit of the word of God, and well-pleasing to Him who has said, "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you."

The Spider's Web

A LITTLE girl into the garden goes

To sit awhile—we'll call her little Rose

And as she does not wish to idle be

She takes her books, a number, as you see.

While thus our little Rose is occupied,

She chanced to glance around, and then espied

Just straight before her, clinging to the trees,

A little long-legged thing one often sees.

A busy spider, anxious he to get

Within the meshes of his well-spread net

A few young flies—a dainty morsel they,

To him more sweet than would be nobler prey.

She watches as his mystic thread he spins,

Not like her knitting, done with glittering pins,

But joined together with his spider glue;

As one by one the magic circles grew.

Who taught the spider thus to spread his net,

So many lines each in its place to set;

Then patiently withdraw and take his stand

In some secluded corner near at hand?

Without this curious silken kind of thatch

A single fly the spider would not catch;

But with its help, although by no one fed,

The spider need not feel the want of bread.

A House on Fire

A FIRE is a very dreadful thing, for not only is much property oftentimes destroyed in a few minutes, but sometimes lives are lost as well. If a fire took place in our house, how thankful we should be if a strong man, as seen in out picture, were to come and carry us out of the house to safety! These men are called firemen, and their business is to put the fire out, if possible, and save people from the burning house. They have on many occasions been able to save the lives of those who otherwise would have been burnt to death.

See how the little girl puts her tiny arm round the big man's neck, quite content to let him do all he can for her, not wanting to have her own way, or save herself; he, the strong one, must do all for her. In like manner Jesus saw that we could not save ourselves from our sins, so in His great love He came down to this earth to die for us, so that all who believe in Him might not perish, but have everlasting life. Shall we not then trust Him as our Saviour, like the children in our picture are trusting the fireman as their saviour.

Stepping Stones

NOW, dear little Kitty, I hope you'll take care,

It would be a pity to tumble in there

I see you're no stranger to that tiny wave,

But still there is danger: be not over brave.

The stones are not gritty to give you firm hold,

So mind, little Kitty, and be not too bold;

Now just take its measure in your little mind,

And then you'll have leisure your courage to find.

You stand there so pretty, 'mid the stream in the dell,

Then courage, dear Kitty, and all will be well;

There's a stone in life's river on which you may tread,

One strong to deliver from all kinds of dread;

Whose eye ever sees us, in trouble and grief,

Dear Kitty, 'tis Jesus who giveth relief;

But all who've a portion in Jesus above,

Need courage and caution, and wisdom and love.

Some of Our Pets

IT is very nice for all little children to have what they call pets. It matters not if it is a bird, a dog, or a kitten to look after, feed and care for. These pets help boys and girls to be kind to all dumb animals, and afraid of none, because they know God has formed them all. Fancy a girl of twelve or fourteen years of age turning pale if a spider suddenly falls on the table! or screaming at the sight of a black-beetle on the floor within a yard of her frock. Whenever you hear of children who do this, I think you will often find they have no pet little creatures of their own.

One of the most amusing pets to have is a poll parrot: it is very sly, but affectionate in Polly’s way, you know, to those who treat it kindly; but its chief attraction is being able to repeat, after a good deal of training, all it hears said, and mimic to a nicety even the tone and expression with which those who are about it speak. Did you ever think how wonderful it is that a bird should talk as we do? We must mind not to teach them naughty things.

Thoughtful, Not Sad

OUR Mary is a cheerful girl,

And dearly loves to play;

No one can more enjoy the sport

When comes a holiday.

But works as well as any lass,

With strength and with a will;

A heavy load she often brings

Of flour from the mill.

The cows she milks, and to the pond

Or meadow leads them out,

And never have I yet beheld

A black look or a pout.

And she is thoughtful too—not sad—

As in the picture seen,

She pauses with her hoop and stick,

Against the wall to lean.

The pigeons hop about her feet,

And some are on the wing:

The birds around are all in glee,

And chirp, and coo, and sing.

Her God it is who made them all,

But loves her most, she knows;

He gave His Son to die, and she

Is saved from endless woes.

The Fish-Wife

THIS picture represents one of the women who sell fish in Scotland. They are mostly the wives and daughters of the fishermen, and they are called fish-wives. They carry heavy loads of fish in baskets on their backs, and you may often meet with them in the railway carriages with their baskets. And these baskets, even when empty, often smell very strongly, and are quite disagreeable to persons not used to it.

They go round the houses to sell their fish, and the cry may often be heard of "Caller herrin'! what will buy my caller herrin'?" The little girl in the picture is carefully keeping her frock from touching the fish basket while she is looking at the pretty fish.

We remember reading of a fish-wife who once was carrying round her fish, and on calling at a house the mistress inquired the price, and then sent out word that she would not buy any that clay, the fish were too dear. The poor woman said with a sigh, "The fish are dear to me, for I have lost a husband and two sons in catching fish." The lady of the house, on hearing this, sent after the woman and bought some of her fish.

Traitors' Gate

SUPPOSE all my readers have heard of the Tower of London. It is a strong place, and was once used as a prison. The prisoners were often taken to the Tower by water, to avoid observation. A barge was placed alongside at Westminster, or wherever the prisoner might be, and into this barge the culprit was placed and rowed down the river to the Tower.

The Traitors' Gate was by the river side, and through this gate the prisoners were passed. It was sometimes late at night, and all was conducted so quietly that no one knew what had taken place, until it was said that such and such a person had been taken prisoner and lodged in the Tower. If it was in the daytime all the boats passing at the time would congregate round the steps to the gate to find out who the prisoner might be, as you see in our picture.

Though called the Traitors' Gate, many persons were taken through it who were not traitors. Yea, many were true Christians who had done nothing worse than read their Bibles and speak of salvation in Christ alone. The dust of many a true martyr will be found in that dull-looking place, the Tower of London.

Harry and the Bears

A LITTLE boy named Harry once lived in a very large city, where, beside parks and flower-gardens, they have a zoological garden, something like the one in London, only not so large. One day Harry was promised that he should go with nurse to see the animals.

Such a treat as this did not often fall to his lot, so he must have looked forward to it with no small amount of expectation and pleasure. I cannot tell you all he saw there, from the chattering monkeys to the huge hippopotamus, but, if you could have been close behind him, you would have been very much amused at the funny remarks he made about the different animals, not to mention the host of questions, to which his kind nurse did her best to reply.

But of all he saw none pleased him more than the bears' pit. It was very amusing to see the bears climb up the pole to reach a bun or biscuit fastened to a long stick. In our picture, however, we see Polar bears as they are at home in their own icy region. One, you see, has a seal under its paw which will soon serve as a meal for the hungry bears.

The Cut Finger

OUR sister Polly linger'd

Before she went to school,

And stood awhile and finger'd

A bright and shiny tool.

And in the room you're peeping,

Just through the open door,

Why, little Polly's weeping—

A chisel's on the floor.

But there is dear old David,

Who's always good and kind,

For on his face engraved

You loving-kindness find.

He sees our sister's folly

In meddling with his things,

But soothes and kisses Polly,

And then some rag he brings.

Her face with sorrow laden,

He brightens with a kiss,

"'Twill now, my little maiden,
Be better after this."

But Polly knows that Jesus

Hears every little prayer,

And that He loves to ease us

In sorrow, pain, or care.

Janie's Trial

THIS is a Sunday scholar named Janie. She has just been to a children's special service, and as she is now on her way home, she has opened her new hymn-book to have a look at a certain black finger-mark on the corner of one of the pages. A poor girl who had no hymn-book at all sat this evening by Janie's side, and when the hymn was given out Janie felt very uncomfortable.

She did not like to see Emmie unable to sing, and yet how could she trust her new hymn-book into the dirty hands of the little girl at her side? But suddenly some words came into her mind, "Even Christ pleased not himself." This decided the matter in Janie's mind and she quickly pushed her book in front of Emmie, almost glad to see her dirty thumb close upon the page, as together they joined in singing—

"I want to be like Jesus,
Meek, loving, lowly, mild;
I want to be like Jesus,
The Father's holy child."

In years to come Janie always looked at that black mark with a thankful heart that the Lord Jesus had enabled her to gain the victory over self.

Annie Toasting

ARE you tired of toasting, Annie, or is that book so interesting you cannot help reading a few pages? It is well that she has laid aside the fork, for if she attempted to read and toast at the same time, I am afraid the bread would soon be burnt.

I hope it is a good book that Annie has, for sometimes I see boys and girls with books that are certainly not worth the reading. I remember an old man once saying that learning was like a sharp sword—if you use it in a right way by holding the handle, it will prove a powerful weapon of defense, but if you take the blade in your hand it will cut you severely.

In like way education is of great value in enabling us to read and study all good books, and especially God's book — the Bible. But if we avoid these, and only choose bad ones to read, how sad it will prove in our life and ways. That would be like holding the sword by the blade, as the old man said, and I think he was quite right.

I trust my young readers will ever remember the words of Jesus, "Learn of me for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls."

Hop-Pickers

IT is a very busy scene at hop-picking. As soon as it is known that the hops are ready to be gathered, many people in various parts of London pack up a few things and start off for the hop-gardens. In many cases children are taken too, for they are able to pick the hops off the vines, while some can mind baby when mother is busy.

As the work is paid for according to the quantity done, you may be sure they make the best use of their time. Sometimes a large umbrella is taken with them this is not to keep off the sun or rain, but is opened and placed on the ground, handle upwards, and then the hops are thrown into it as they are plucked. In our picture you will see two little girls at work, and a man who is getting the rods ready for the pickers to handle next.

How good is God to all His creatures! He gives us the precious fruits of the earth, and then in-gathering provides a living for numbers of the poor, and perhaps among the poorest are to be found the hop-pickers.

Courtesy of BibleTruthPublishers.com. Most likely this text has not been proofread. Any suggestions for spelling or punctuation corrections would be warmly received. Please email them to: [email protected].