on, able to
bear our whole weight of sin, of sorrow, and of trial. By the glorious
example of sinless purity, yet of lowly meekness and complete
submission to a Father's will, as exhibited by our blessed Saviour, he
learned to practise the "charity" which "suffereth long," and "beareth
all things;" so that even Mrs. Walters was obliged to acknowledge that
really "Bill was not a bad kind of a boy."

None are, however, free from sin, and the boy had many struggles
against the natural inclination to do evil; he was also often sorely
tempted; but sufficient grace was given by Him who hath promised that
none shall be tempted above what he is able to bear, to make a way of
escape.

The summer of the second year had passed away, and the advance of
autumn had somewhat shortened the days, not, however, yet so much so
as to make it necessary to light up the shop. Jem Taylor always went
away at the close of working hours, and as William was the only one
who boarded with the Walters, he was constantly left alone.

One evening Mr. and Mrs. Walters went out together to a place of
public amusement, and having great confidence in "Bill," although they
treated him most unkindly, they left him in charge of the house.

Taking a seat in the unlighted shop, the lad looked through the open
door on the passers-by, and his heart grew sad at the thought, that
among them all there was no one who cared for him. Naturally of a
gentle and loving spirit, he longed for suitable companionship on
which he might lavish his wealth; but, except the Burtons, with whom
he could spend but little time, there was no one from whose influence
gleams of sunshine could steal in upon his heart and cheer its
desolation. "I have always heard it said," was his musing thought,
"that if one were kind and affectionate, he would be sure to receive
love in return. I do all I can to please Mr. and Mrs. Walters, but I
am certain I shall never be able to win their love, and I am _so_
lonesome."

By this time the twilight had deepened almost into night, rendering
objects nearly indistinct. The passing crowd had gradually grown less,
but our hero neither noticed the increasing gloom nor the comparative
quiet of the street, until aroused by the sound of music. Some German
street musicians still abroad were playing the sweet and touching air,
"Why, O why, my heart, this sadness?" and the sounds awoke a different
train of meditation. How often had he heard that strain at hom