is I." It was found that the sillier and more impertinent
the question, the more laughter it caused.

"Who comes down last to breakfast?" said Tom, drawing from the pack one
marked 8.

"I do," replied Aunt Lucy, throwing down her corresponding 8.

"Who is the prettiest person present?" said Aunt Lucy, drawing out a 3.

"I am," said George, with a grin--being quite reconciled to the fact
that he was decidedly the ugliest one of the party; at the same time
mating his 3 with its companion on the table.

"Who loves mince-pie the best?" said Amy

"I do," replied Ellen, with a laugh.

"Which of us is the old maid of the company?" said Cornelia.

"It is I," cried Tom, in a tone of triumph.

"Which of us has a hole in her stocking?" said Alice.

"Oh, it is I myself."

And so it went on until the pack was exhausted, when all agreed that it
was time for the daily story, which they seemed to think as much a
matter of course as the supper. Aunt Lucy said that she would gladly
tell them a short one, which should be called

The Orphan's Tale, or the Vicissitudes of Fortune.

The early days of Margaret Roscoe were spent in the beautiful manse of
Linlithgow, in the north of Scotland, where her venerable grandfather
had for half a century been engaged in breaking the bread of life to a
large congregation of humble parishioners. No wealth or grandeur was to
be seen within the walls of the kirk where Alan Roscoe officiated: there
were no waving plumes, no flashing jewels, no rustling silks; and when,
as a young man, he accepted his appointment to this remote parish, his
college friends grieved that his noble talents should be wasted, and his
refinement of mind thrown away upon rough country folks, unable to
appreciate him. But the young minister was convinced that his proper
field of labor was now before him, and resolutely putting aside the
temptings of ambition, he devoted himself in the most exemplary manner
to his parochial duties. Although he and his family were debarred from
the advantages of cultivated society, and from the mental excitement
which only such intercourse can afford, they cheerfully made the
sacrifice, for the sake of the cause to which they were wholly given up;
and they thought themselves more than repaid by the improvement and the
reverent love of the people. It is a great mistake to suppose that
plain, unlettered men cannot rightly estimate superior abilities,
erudition, and refinement; where ther