on for
such light services as were required of him. Harvey was an humble member
of the same church in which his employer was a shining light, therefore
it was his privilege to listen, with a thankful spirit, to many precious
pearls of wisdom that dropped from their revered lips. In fact, Harvey
was enveloped continually in the very odor of sanctity, whereby he was
greatly profited. Thus the promptings of his sinful nature were
effectually stifled, and he grew each day, outwardly as well as
spiritually, more ethereal, less "of the earth earthly."

Maria Mott was wicked enough to say that it was because he did not get
enough to eat, and to openly lament the change in the once bright-eyed,
round-faced boy.

The worthy old Doctor, however, congratulated himself, and said he was
fitting the boy for heaven.

Mrs. Little used to remain at the tea table to administer instruction,
not, let us hope, as Maria averred, to watch Harvey so he wouldn't eat
so much.

"Harvey," she asked, on one occasion, "are you not thankful that the
Lord has given you so good a home?"

"Yes, Mis' Little, keeps me pretty busy though to earn it," came
hollowly from the depths of a teacup.

"Mamma," called young Charlie Little, over the banister, "I want Harvey
to do an errand for me. Will you please give him my order. Here is a
bright new silver piece for him, too."

"Such extravagance, Charlie!" said his mother, but, coloring as Clemence
passed her, "I want you to be generous to the poor, my son, I have
always striven to inculcate the lesson of charity conscientiously."

Mrs. Little _was_ good-hearted and liberal. Clemence felt sorry for
having misjudged her, as she saw a bright silver piece glitter in her
hand the next Sabbath, as she sat beside her during the weekly
collection of contribution for the missionary fund. Maria was wrong, and
she was sorry she laughed when she spoke flippantly of Mrs. Little's
magnificent gift of a penny a Sabbath amounting to fifty-two cents
annually. She ought to be more careful to give people the benefit of the
doubt.

But she thought differently, when she got home and found Harvey
patiently blacking Master Charlie's boots.

"Why, Harvey, you were not at church?" she asked, in surprise.

"No, Miss Graystone, they kept me too busy here," was the reply, in a
disheartened tone, "and now Master Charlie's been off fishin', and got
all covered with dust, I've got to black these boots over again. I
should thin