ary work.

A few minutes' walk brought William to the room occupied by old Mrs.
Graham. It was a poor place, in a basement half under ground. Cold and
damp, it was altogether unsuitable for an invalid; but she said she
liked it, for the other dwellers in the house, mostly washer-women,
were decently-behaved people, and as kind to her as their means would
allow them to be. Suffering so much from rheumatism that she was
confined to her bed, she was, however, not idle, but propped up and
busy knitting, when William entered.

"Ah, ah! William Raymond, is that you?" said she; "come in and tell us
why you have stayed away so long."

This was soon explained, and the treasures exhibited. The miniature
Christmas tree was lighted up, and made to stand, by some process of
childish ingenuity, on the table; the shoes which William had made out
of Jem Taylor's "upper leather" were displayed, and, on being tried
on, were found to fit; and, last of all, the treasures of the basket
were spread forth. It was long since such a meal had been eaten in
that lowly room, or since its inmates had been so cheerful; and, dear
reader, what was the cost of the whole? Happiness can be bestowed at
small expense, and there are none so poor that they cannot give it.
True charity, which some call "the first-born of religion," makes
others' wants their own, and--

"Amid life's quests
There seems that worthiest one, to do men good."

The old grandmother looked with great interest on the sports of the
children, and joined in the praises Ned bestowed on his _semi_-new
shoes. It seemed surprising to the latter that his friend Bill could
accomplish a task so wonderful as to make a pair of shoes; and while
he danced round the room in perfect delight, he begged his grandmother
to put him at once to a shoemaker, so that he, too, might do men's
work.

William stood by the bedside of the aged invalid, and watched her
faded lips as they moved in grateful prayer. His whole soul, filled
with the secret pleasure of a generous act, was yet more moved by the
blessings invoked on him by one so old, and, there was no doubt, truly
sincere. It seemed as if nothing could increase his present happiness.

"Where did you get all these nice things?" asked the old woman; "this
is an unexpected feast for me."

William, taking no more credit than truth demanded, explained how he
had proceeded,--some, the smallest portion, was purchased, the