e that duty
unfulfilled?"

Emily hung her head, while tears slowly coursed down her cheek.

"Do you not see, my dear, that by idling away the precious moments you
crowd the duty of one hour into the next, so your task can never be
finished, or at best very imperfectly? If you reflect, the experience of
the past week will tell you this. I have kept this memorandum on purpose
to convince you of your sinful waste of that most precious of all
gifts,--the time which our Master allows us here to work out our
happiness hereafter. Remember, my love, that you are accountable to Him
for your use of His gifts, and a proper improvement of time will not
only save you many mortifications and produce much pleasure and comfort
to yourself and all about you, but it is a duty you owe to the God who
bestowed it. Do not think me unnecessarily earnest, my dear little girl;
the subject is of fearful importance, and this habit of putting off till
to-morrow what should be done to-day, is your greatest fault. Remember
hereafter that 'Whatsoever thine hand findeth to do, do it now with all
thy might,' and then I shall have no more occasion to remind you of the
wasted gift."

Emily never forgot the lesson of that week, but gradually overcame the
evil habits of idleness and procrastination which were becoming fixed
before she was made fully aware of their danger, and a long life of
usefulness attested the good impression left upon her mind by her
mother's memorandum of "The Wasted Gift."

* * * * *

Original.

FAULT FINDING--THE ANTIDOTE.

"Will you excuse me, mother," said a bright looking boy of twelve or
thirteen to his mother, as soon as he had finished his meat and potato.
"Yes, if you wish." "And may I be excused too, mother?" cried his little
brother of some six or seven years. "Yes, dear, if there is any occasion
for such haste, but why do you not wish for your pudding or fruit?" "Oh,
Charley is going to show me something," replied the happy little boy, as
he eagerly hastened from his seat, and followed his brother to the
window, where they were both speedily intent upon a new bow and arrow,
which had just been presented to Charley by a poor wandering Indian, to
whom he had been in the habit of giving such little matters as his means
would allow. Sometimes a little tobacco for his pipe, a pair of his
father's cast-off boots or a half-worn pair of stockings, and sometimes
he would beg of his mothe