es and sucklings
come words of wisdom."

"I met her on the hill,--the one you call Truth," he said, in answer to
the searching look of Mrs. Highbred, who by manner and inquiry plainly
manifested her desire to have an end of the unusual state of things.

"I will go for her. She will return with me," continued the doctor,
"and soon we will find some spot to which we can remove Error."

A look of relief came over the face of the lady as he departed.

Truth heard not the sound of the horses, nor the rumbling of wheels
as they approached, so intent were her thoughts on separation from her
sister and her own strange mission to earth; and she scarce sensed
whither she was going, when the kind man courteously lifted her into his
carriage. But when she stood by the fevered, unconscious form of Error,
a few moments later, all her clearness of thought was at her command.

"Carry her to the cottage on the hill-side," she said, as she bound a
cool bandage on her sister's brow.

They bore her there, and, as though in mercy, a dark cloud shut off
the sun's rays, and their fierce glare was obscured during transit from
the home of splendor to the humble cottage.

There for many weeks Truth nursed her sister, while the kind hostess
and kind neighbors aided by words and deeds through the long night
watches.

Error arose from her illness somewhat wiser, and firmly fixed in her
determination to follow Truth and share her fate to their journey's end.

Thus, reader, shall we ever find them together while we dwell on earth,
and perchance in the regions above. Let us trust that they are wisely
related; and, while we love, reverence, and admire the purity of Truth,
let us seek also courteously to endure Error as an opposing force, which,
though it may seem for a time to work our discomfort and hinder us in
our progress, yet gives us strength, as the rower on the stream is made
stronger by the counter currents and eddies with which he has to contend.

X.

THE TREE.

A large shade-tree grew near a house, and under its branches the children
played every summer day. It seemed to take great delight in their voices,
and shook its green boughs over their heads, as though it would join in
their sports and laughter. But, alas! one day it got a foolish idea into
its head--it grew discontented, and felt that its sphere of usefulness
was too limited.

At that moment dark clouds gathered, a fearful tempest arose, and a
strong current