l, enjoying
all the delight of perfect health. Jacques almost had become a man.

M. Martel had not heard without emotion about his daughter's generous
act, and her efforts to have Jacques received as a pupil in the Amoros
gymnasium.

"Am I not well rewarded?" she exclaimed, extending her hand to the
young man. "You would not have had any daughter without him, papa. The
horror of my position, the impossibility of my finding a rope, a
ladder, or any way of escape, frightened me so, that I lost my senses,
and I should have been burned alive, if it had not been for Jacques."

"Ah, mademoiselle," said the slater's son, with emotion, "it is not
life alone that I owe to you; is it not more than life? It is health,
the use of my limbs, and the happiness of being able to support my
mother. Yes, mademoiselle," added Jacques, with fervor, "I am a
workman, and thanks to the lessons of our excellent professor, Colonel
Amoros, I am more skilful than any of my fellow-laborers. I can
support my family, and my wages are higher, because I can work harder
and work longer than the rest."

"Brave boy!" exclaimed M. Martel, pressing Jacques in his arms, who
was quite overcome at the meeting. "From this day forward you shall be
my son. I will take charge of your education and your advancement, of
your mother and your sister. Brave boy! My daughter has done much for
you, but you deserve it; she understood your heart."

M. Martel kept his word. And some days after, when Jacques and his
uncle met in the small attic of the poor widow, and were rejoicing
over the happy change in their fortunes, the poor mother clasped her
boy's head to her heart, and bathed his curls with tears, and covered
them with kisses, exclaiming,--

"Now you see, brother, Jacques was not a useless creature. It is owing
to him that our fortune is made."

"Yes, thanks to Colonel Amoros," said the workman.

"Thanks to Mademoiselle Emilie," said Jacques, heaving a sigh.

S. W. LANDER.

[Decoration]

[Illustration: {The girl kisses her father on the forehead}]

A DINNER AND A KISS.

"I have brought your dinner, father,"
The blacksmith's daughter said,
As she took from her arm the kettle,
And lifted its shining lid.
"There is not any pie or pudding;
So I will give you this;"
And upon his toil-worn forehead
She left the childish kiss.

The blacksmith took off his