nder one of the stunted shrubs of this
dry and desert region, in the hope of his getting some relief from the
slight damp which the shade afforded. The burning fever, however,
continued unabated; and the poor mother, forgetting her own sorrow,
destitute and alone in the midst of a wilderness, went to a little
distance, unable to witness his lingering sufferings, and then "she
lifted up her voice and wept." But God had not forgotten her: a voice
was heard in the solitude, and an Angel of the Lord appeared, uttering
words of comfort and promises of peace. He directed her to a well of
water, which, concealed by the brushwood, had not been seen by her. Thus
encouraged, Hagar drew a refreshing draught, and hastening to her son,
"raised him by the hand," and gave him the welcome drink, which soon
restored him. This well, according to the tradition of the Arabs, who
pay great honour to the memory of Hagar, is Zemzem, near Mecca.

[Illustration: HAGAR AND ISHMAEL.]

After this, we have no account of the history of Ishmael, except that he
established himself in the wilderness of Paran, near Mount Sinai, and
belonged to one of the tribes by which the desert was frequented. He was
married, by his mother, to a countrywoman of her own, and maintained
himself and his family by the produce of his bow. Many of the Arabian
tribes have been proud to trace their origin to this son of the
Patriarch Abraham.

* * * * *

THE HOLLY BOUGH.

[Illustration: Letter Y.]

Ye who have scorn'd each other,
Or injured friend or brother,
In this fast fading year;
Ye who, by word or deed,
Have made a kind heart bleed,
Come gather here.
Let sinn'd against, and sinning,
Forget their strife's beginning,
And join in friendship now;
Be links no longer broken,
Be sweet forgiveness spoken
Under the Holly-bough.

Ye who have loved each other,
Sister and friend and brother,
In this fast fading year;
Mother and sire and child,
Young man and maiden mild,
Come gather here;
And let your hearts grow fonder,
As Memory shall ponder
Each past unbroken vow:
Old loves and younger wooing
Are sweet in the renewing
Under the Holly-bough.

Ye who have nourish'd sadness.
Estranged from hope and gladness,
In this fast fading year;
Ye with o'erburden'd mind,
Made aliens from your kind,