oman and her two sons happy.

HOSPITALITY.

* * * * *

There was a poor woman named Rachel Jenkins, who lived in a very little
cottage at some distance from any other house. She was a widow, and very
poor, but she was very clean and careful; so that her cottage had always
a look of neatness and comfort. She used to spend most of her time in
spinning.

She had one son, whose name was Harry. He was twelve years old, and used
to carry a basket filled with tapes and thread, pins and needles, and
other things of that sort, which he sold to people who lived near. He
used to go out in the morning and return in the evening; and you may be
sure his mother was always glad when the time came for him to come home.

One evening, as he was on his way home, about half a mile from his
mother's house, he saw an old man sitting by the way-side, who was very
tired, and seemed as if he was not able to walk any further. His hair
was quite white, and his face and hands were thin and wrinkled.

Harry said to him in a kind voice, "You seem tired, father; have you got
much further to walk." The old man told him that he had to go to the
next town, which was twelve miles further; but that he was so tired, he
was sure that he should not be able to get there that night. On this,
Harry said, "I wish you would go home with me; for I am sure my mother
would be very glad that you should sleep in our house." The old man
thanked him and said he would go with him. So he rested his hand upon
Harry's shoulder, and walked slowly towards the house. Harry's mother
met them at the door; and when Harry had told her how he had met with
the old man, she said she was glad to see him, and asked him to walk in
to take some tea.

After tea, the old man told Sarah Jenkins that he was going to see his
son, who was laid up in a hospital in the town to which he was going.
His son was a soldier, and had been in the West Indies for some years;
but he caught the yellow fever, and was sent home sick.

The next morning the old man went on his way, and blessed Sarah Jenkins
and Harry, because they had done good to him who could make no other
return than to thank them and pray for them.

[Illustration: HOSPITALITY]

SUNDAY EVENING.

* * * * *

When I was a girl, Sunday evening used to be the part of the week that I
loved best; and I liked it better in Winter than in Summer. We used to
sit ro