And why you wasteful from you throw That bread which many a one might cheer?" The little boy, in accents sweet, 66 Replied, while tears each other chased: Lady, we've not enough to eat Ah! if we had we should not waste. But sister Mary's naughty grown, "Indeed," the wan, starved Mary said, "Till Henry eat I'll eat no more; For yesterday I got some bread, He's had none since the day before." My heart did swell, my bosom heave, And clasped the clay-cold hand of each. With looks of woe too sadly true, With looks that spoke a grateful heart, "Before my father went away, Enticed by bad men o'er the sea, Sister and I did nought but playWe lived beside yon great ash tree. But then poor mother did so cry, And looked so changed, I cannot tell; She told us that she soon should die, And bade us love each other well. She said that, when the war was o'er, But if we never saw him more, That God our Father then would be! She kissed us both, and then she died, But when my father came not here, We hand in hand went many 'a mile, But when we reached the sea, and found So we returned to mother's grave, Then since no parent we have here, Lady, pray can you tell us where That God, our Father, may be found? He lives in heaven, mother said, And Goody says that mother's there; So, if she knows we want his aid, I think perhaps she'll send him here."- I clasped the prattlers to my breast, I'll clothe you, feed you, give you rest, And God shall be your Father still;'Twas he in mercy sent me here, To teach you to obey his will, Your steps to guide, your hearts to cheer." ANON. COMPASSION. AROUND the fire, one wintry night, And jokes went round, and careless chat; When, hark! a gentle hand they hear "Cold blows the blast across the moor, My eyes are weak and dim with age, So faint I am, these tottering feet My freezing heart forgets to beat, And drifting snows my tomb prepare. Open your hospitable door, And shield me from the biting blast : Cold, cold it blows across the moor— The weary moor that I have passed!" With hasty steps the farmer ran, The poor half-frozen beggar-man, With shaking limbs and pale-blue face. The little children flocking came, And chafed his frozen hands in theirs ; And busily the good old dame A comfortable mess prepares. Their kindness cheered his drooping soul, Which told the thanks he could not speak. The children then began to sigh, And all their merry chat was o'er ; And yet they felt, they knew not why, More glad than they had done before. ΑΙΚΕΝ. THE KING AND THE MILLER. THERE dwelt a miller hale and bold Beside the river Dee; He worked and sang from morn to night No lark more blithe than he; And this the burden of his song "I envy nobody-no, not I; And nobody envies me!" "Thou'rt wrong, my friend," said old King Hal "Thou'rt wrong as wrong can be; For could my heart be light as thine, I'd gladly change with thee. And tell me now what makes thee sing While I am sad, though I'm the King, The miller smiled, and doffed his cap :- I owe no penny I cannot pay, I thank the river Dee, That turns the mill that grinds the corn To feed my babes and me.' "Good friend," said Hal, and sighed the while, "Farewell! and happy be; But say no more, if thou'dst be true, That no one envies thee: Thy mealy cap is worth my crown; Such men as thou are England's boast, A. MACKENZIE. FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. A GALLANT ship went out to sea And with her sailed one hundred men, The anchor rose, the sails were set, And steady blew the breeze; And merrily the vessel went Across the tossing seas. From morn till night her course she kept, The land was still in view, And passengers upon the deck |