irst sight of its antiquated ugliness; but her face was one
which it gave you a sense of rest to look upon,--it was so earnest,
tender, true, and strong. It had little comeliness of shape or color in
it, it was thin, and pale; she was not young; she had worked hard; she had
evidently been much ill; but I have seen few faces which gave me such
pleasure. I think that she was the wife of a poor clergyman; and I think
that clergyman must be one of the Lord's best watchmen of souls. The
children--two boys and two girls--were all under the age of twelve, and
the youngest could not speak plainly. They had had a rare treat; they had
been visiting the mountains, and they were talking over all the wonders
they had seen with a glow of enthusiastic delight which was to be envied.
Only a word-for-word record would do justice to their conversation; no
description could give any idea of it,--so free, so pleasant, so genial,
no interruptions, no contradictions; and the mother's part borne all the
while with such equal interest and eagerness that no one not seeing her
face would dream that she was any other than an elder sister. In the
course of the day there were many occasions when it was necessary for her
to deny requests, and to ask services, especially from the eldest boy; but
no young girl, anxious to please a lover, could have done either with a
more tender courtesy. She had her reward; for no lover could have been
more tender and manly than was this boy of twelve. Their lunch was simple
and scanty; but it had the grace of a royal banquet. At the last, the
mother produced with much glee three apples and an orange, of which the
children had not known. All eyes fastened on the orange. It was evidently
a great rarity. I watched to see if this test would bring out selfishness.
There was a little silence; just the shade of a cloud. The mother said,
"How shall I divide this? There is one for each of you; and I shall be
best off of all, for I expect big tastes from each of you."

"Oh, give Annie the orange. Annie loves oranges," spoke out the oldest
boy, with a sudden air of a conqueror, and at the same time taking the
smallest and worst apple himself.

"Oh, yes, let Annie have the orange," echoed the second boy, nine years
old.

"Yes, Annie may have the orange, because that is nicer than the apple, and
she is a lady, and her brothers are gentlemen," said the mother, quietly.
Then there was a merry contest as to who should feed the mot