we have had no great dinner, no presents, and tonight shall have no party, and no dancing.'

'You have instead, dear young lady, been helping the poor and afflicted, and laying up a store of happiness for hereafter, instead of giving yourself up to the fleeting joys of to-day, which to-morrow would be but vanity and vexation. You are tired of my heavy hand dragging upon you, my dear,' said the old woman.

'No, Mary,' replied Annie, 'I think not; but perhaps it would be pleasant to change sides,' and she went round and placed the other hand on her shoulder. Her mother smiled.

'I

'You need not think so, mamma,' said Annie. know what you mean quite well, that I am already tired of what I undertook.'

'I had some such idea, I confess, Annie; but I am glad to hear I was mistaken. I thought you were perhaps wishing for a little run after Carry and Zoë.' These two had been darting about the road, now on one side, now on the other, gathering flowers from the hedges, running races, and amusing themselves in various ways. Lena had walked quietly by Mrs. Scott's side, following Annie and Mary.

'No, mamma, indeed I do not wish to run. I do generally like it; but I feel that I am doing a little good by pleasing Mary. I have never yet done any good, and I don't care how tired I may be. I am quite determined to lead Mary myself all the way to H- and back.'

"Fervent in spirit, serving the Lord," said Mary.

'You are making a good beginning, young lady; keep it up, and do not weary in well-doing. I dare say you will always remember this walk with me, on the first birthday that you tried to do good to others.'

Now they approached the town.

'We shall give you one entire hour, Mary,' said Mrs. Scott, 'to sit with your daughter; and as we are so many in number to-day, we will not go in to see Susan. Perhaps I may come again soon.'

'Is not this the hospital, mamma?' asked Annie. 'One of us must, I suppose, go in, to lead Mary to the room where Susan is.'

'Yes, I suppose that must be done; and you, Annie, wish, no doubt, to keep that privilege to yourself?' 'Certainly, mamma. Then will you wait for me at the door?'

'We will go slowly up the street, and when we reach the bridge we will come back to meet you.' So Annie went in at the hospital door with Mary, and Mrs. Scott with the three little girls walked along the

street.

'I like to see the town,' said Zoë; 'do not you, Mrs. Scott?'

'I cannot say, Zoë, that I care about the town. I infinitely prefer green fields, gardens, and trees. Why do you admire the town?'

'Partly,' said Zoë, 'because I so seldom come here, and I so much like to look at all the pretty things in the shop windows; but then, when I go home, I

cannot help wishing for what I have seen, although I never thought of them before.'

'In that case you would be happier without coming to Merton at all. Now let us amuse ourselves by thinking of what real pleasure or use any of these things in the shop window would be to us.' They were passing a watchmaker's at the time.

'There,' cried Zoë, 'is a very pretty little gold clock. How nice that would look on the mantelpiece! And you cannot say, Mrs. Scott, that a clock is not useful. We must know what o'clock it

is; how could we do without?'

'I do not say that a clock is useless. But the question is, Zoë, would this particular clock be useful to you? Has not your mamma already a clock in her drawing-room, and one also in the dining-room ?’ 'Yes, indeed she has; but they are not so pretty as this.'

"Then it is only for its prettiness, not for its use, that you want it!'

Zoë hesitated. 'I am afraid, indeed, that it would be of no use; and really I can think of no place where mamma could put it.'

'So, dear Zoë, it would, in fact, be quite in the

way.

We may pass over the clock; you do not need

it either for use or pleasure.'

Ah! well, here is a book shop. Look, Mrs. Scott, at all these pretty children's books,—some with pictures, and all so prettily bound! Books really are useful!

'Books are delightful, I acknowledge; but have you no book at home unread, Zoë?'

'Indeed, there are numbers of books that I have never opened, and yet I like reading very much; but somehow those shelves at home do not tempt me. The books are old and dingy-looking, and the backs do not look amusing.'

'What are the names on some of these dingy books?' asked Mrs. Scott.

'Let me think. There is Tales of a Grandfather. That sounds very dull.'

Its sound deceives you, then,' said Mrs. Scott; 'for those tales are among the most amusing of true stories. Pray, Zoë, in spite of its ugly back, do set to work to read that particular book.'

It seems to you very silly, I daresay,' said Zoë ; 'but I so much more willingly begin a book with a pretty bright binding, and nice, clean, new leaves.'

'I do think it very childish, Zoë. Tell me what other books your mamma has with those terribly ugly bindings.'

'Why, there is one called Swiss Robinson, and mamma has often wished me to read it; but the pictures are so frightful, so old-fashioned, and it has such an odious green binding! Then there is a curious-looking old purple book called Elements of Morality. That one has pictures too; such ugly little girls, and boys in tail-coats and long-stockings! I really could not determine to begin it.'

'Well, Zoë, I should say that when you have read

all the amusing books in your home, you might reasonably wish for some of these pretty new ones; but whilst you possess volumes that you have not looked at, which are far more interesting than many of the new ones, it is mere folly to buy more. So we may pass that shop.'

'I see,' said Zoë, laughing, 'that you will make out that I do not want anything from the town. Here comes Annie; let me ask her if she does not like new things.'

'Annie's tastes are, I doubt not, quite as childish as your own,' replied Mrs. Scott. First, let us ask

her about Susan.'

Annie was quite breathless when she overtook them.

'I am so pleased, mamma, that we came with poor Mary! You know Susan did not in the least expect her mother; and she was lying there looking so dull, and doing nothing. When we went up to the bedside, and I said, "Here, Susan, I have brought your mother to see you," her face brightened up so, and her cheeks became quite pink; she seized Mary's hand, and hugged it close to her, and said, "Oh, dear mother! I thought you were never coming to see me," and then she burst out crying.'

'Poor girl!' said Mrs. Scott, 'it must be sadly dull work for her. Did you hear what prospect there is of her recovery?'

'Yes, Mary asked her directly what the doctors said about her; and Susan told us that the doctor had