nd into the house, for he could hardly stand.
He was bruised and lame, and the breath had almost left him. But after
resting a while and taking some good warm drink, he tried to walk
home; and though the lady helped him, he found it hard work, for he
was so sore and bruised. Charlie's mother was frightened enough to see
her boy come home leaning on their neighbor's arm and looking so pale.
She helped him undress and lie down, and then she did just what your
mother, little reader-boy, would do if you had such an escape as
Charlie's. She put her arms around her boy and said, "Let us thank the
good Lord that you were not killed, my boy." And do you think Charlie
will ever forget his escape? I don't. And I hope he will always thank
"the good Lord" not only for the escape, but for his every blessing.

I AM COMING!

I am coming! I am coming! sings the robin on the wing;
Soon the gates of spring will open; where you loiter I will sing;
Turn your thoughts to merriest music, send it ringing down the vale,
Where the yellow-bird is waiting on the old brown meadow-rail.

I am coming! I am coming! sings the summer from afar;
And her voice is like the shining of some silver-mantled star;
In it breathes the breath of flowers, in it hides the dawn of day,
In it wake the happy showers of the merry, merry May!

DAISY'S TEMPTATION.

"I don't think grandma would ever know it. I could just slip them into
my pocket and put them on after I get there as e-a-sy! I'll do it;"
and Daisy Dorsey lifted her grandma's gold beads from a box on her
lap. She clasped them about her chubby neck and stood before the
mirror, talking softly to herself. "How nice it will be!" she said,
drawing up her little figure till only the tip of her nose was visible
in the glass. "And Jimmy Martin will let me fly his kite instead of
Hetty Lee. Hetty Lee, indeed! I don't believe she ever had any
grandmother--not such a grandmother as mine, anyway."

Then the proud little Daisy fell to thinking of the verse her mother
had read to her that morning, about the dear Father in heaven who sees
us always, and the blessed angels who are so holy and so pure.

"And I promised mamma I would be so good and try so hard to do right
always. No, no; I can't do it. Lie there, little pretty gold beads.
Daisy loves you, but she wants to be good too. So good-bye, dear
little, bright gold beads," laying them softly back in the drawer and