to see their error, and the sin of thus fretting and irritating
each other. Nor was I disappointed. The younger, whose conscience was
the most sensitive, first made the discovery, and immediately began
trying to remedy the evil, and to induce her sister to aid her in the
endeavor. Imagining some of her thoughts and feelings, I have put them
in rhyme.

We have done wrong, dear sister; and I'm very sad to-day:
For I have felt how far we've strayed from wisdom's blessed way;
Have felt how much of angry strife hath dwelt within our hearts,
And how, when _that_ has entered in, Life's happiness departs.

We have done wrong, dear sister; for we have not patient been,
But answered often hasty words by hasty words again;
And when we should with gentle acts have soothed each other's care,
We've made by cold indifference our lot more hard to bear.

We have done wrong, dear sister; I remember how we've grieved
Our widowed mother's anxious heart, so long of joy bereaved;
O, were we loving, good, and kind, and all our murmurings o'er,
Might not the smiles come back again and light her face once more?

I know our lot in life, thus far, hath not been smooth and fair;
That often much of toil and ill has fallen to our share;
But why, dear sister, why should we _ourselves_ the load increase?
Why, by our jangling and our strife, shut out all joy and peace?

And more: we have offended God; this day I feel and know
We have forgotten his commands, and gained us nought but woe.
O join with me as, filled with grief, most earnestly I pray,
That he will yet be merciful, and take our sin away.

"Love thou each other;" "love all men;" "and love shall make you free;"
Thus said the Savior, Jesus; and let this _our_ watchword be;
Let us each other love; and pray that gentle thoughts may come,
And gentle words and acts may make an Eden of our home.

Forgive me now, dear sister, all the anger I have shown,
And all my past unkindness, through the years already flown;
I'll love thee faithfully and true, and lay all harshness by;
To be my loving sister, then, wilt _thou_ not also try?

LITTLE EMMA.

One Saturday afternoon, little Emma came into her mother's room, and
said to her, "Mother, may I go with Abba to her Sunday school? She says,
they are all so happy there."

"My child," said her mother, "why do you wish to leave your own school
and go to a strange one?"

"Because, mother, Abba has often told me what a good school they have,