ing for music, and sat singing old glees and catches, till I
don't know what o'clock, without one word of politics or newspapers.

Before they parted, Mary had coaxed pussy on to her knee; for Mrs.
Jenkins would not part with baby, who was sleeping on her lap.

"When you're busy, bring him to me. Do, now, it will be a real favour. I
know you must have a deal to do, with another coming; let him come up to
me. I'll take the greatest of cares of him; pretty darling, how sweet he
looks when he's asleep!"

When the couples were once more alone, the husbands unburdened their
minds to their wives.

Mr. Jenkins said to his--"Do you know, Burgess tried to make me believe
Hodgson was such a fool as to put paragraphs into the _Examiner_ now and
then; but I see he knows his place, and has got too much sense to do any
such thing."

Hodgson said--"Mary, love, I almost fancy from Jenkins's way of speaking
(so much civiler than I expected), he guesses I wrote that 'Pro Bono'
and the 'Rose-bud,'--at any rate, I've no objection to your naming it,
if the subject should come uppermost; I should like him to know I'm a
literary man."

Well! I've ended my tale; I hope you don't think it too long; but, before
I go, just let me say one thing.

If any of you have any quarrels, or misunderstandings, or coolnesses, or
cold shoulders, or shynesses, or tiffs, or miffs, or huffs, with any one
else, just make friends before Christmas,--you will be so much merrier
if you do.

I ask it of you for the sake of that old angelic song, heard so many
years ago by the shepherds, keeping watch by night, on Bethlehem
Heights.

HAND AND HEART.

"Mother, I should so like to have a great deal of money," said little
Tom Fletcher one evening, as he sat on a low stool by his mother's knee.
His mother was knitting busily by the firelight, and they had both been
silent for some time.

"What would you do with a great deal of money if you had it?"

"Oh! I don't know--I would do a great many things. But should not you
like to have a great deal of money, mother?" persisted he.

"Perhaps I should," answered Mrs. Fletcher. "I am like you sometimes,
dear, and think that I should be very glad of a little more money. But
then I don't think I am like you in one thing, for I have always some
little plan in my mind, for which I should want the money. I never wish
for it just for its own sake."

"Why, mother! there are so many things we could do if we had b