med Mr. Bishop, "can that be true? How did you
disguise yourself so well?"

"I was not so much disguised, after all; but you could not very
readily associate Mr. Merton, the lawyer, with a poor wayfaring man."

"Well, it is a good joke," said Mr. Bishop; "good in more senses than
one. It has terminated very pleasantly for me."

"I was surprised," said Mr. Merton, "at the broad and liberal views
you expressed of men and their actions generally. I supposed I had
greatly the advantage over you in means and education; yet how cramped
and narrow-minded have been my views beside yours! That wife of yours
is an estimable woman, and that boy of yours will be an honor to any
man. I tell you, Bishop," said the lawyer, becoming animated, "you are
rich--rich beyond what money could make; you have treasures that gold
will not buy. I tell you, you owe me no thanks. Somehow I seem to have
lived years since yesterday morning. What I have learned at your house
is worth more than you owe me, and I am your debtor yet. Hereafter I
shall take as my motto, 'Put yourself in his place,' and try to
regulate my actions by it."

We cannot measure the need
Of even the tiniest flower,
Nor check the flow of the golden sands
That run through a single hour.
But the morning dews must fall,
And the sun and summer rain
Must do their part and perform it all,
Over and over again.

The path that has once been trod
Is never so rough to the feet;
And the lesson we once have learned
Is never so hard to repeat.
Though sorrowful tears may fall,
And the heart to its depths be driven
With storm and tempest; we need them all
To render us meet for heaven.

FORGIVE AND FORGET.

Forgive and forget, it is better
To fling all ill feeling aside
Than allow the deep, cankering fetter
Of revenge in your breast to abide;
For your step o'er life's path will be lighter,
When the load from your bosom is cast,
And the glorious sky will seem brighter,
When the cloud of displeasure has passed.

Though your spirit swell high with emotion
To give back injustice again,
Sink the thought in oblivion's ocean,
For remembrance increases the pain.
O, why should we linger in sorrow,
When its shadow is passing away,--
Or seek to encounter to-morrow,
The blast that o'erswept us to-day?

Our life's str