of his father, of his mother, of his little bed, where he
might now be sleeping so soundly; but still the little fellow stirred
not, for he knew that did he remove the small slender finger which he
had opposed to the escape of the water, not only would he himself be
drowned, but his father, his brothers, his neighbors--nay, the whole
village. We know not what faltering of purpose, what momentary
failures of courage, there might have been during that long and
terrible night; but certain it is, that, at day-break, he was found in
the same painful position by a clergyman returning from attendance on
a death-bed, who, as he advanced, thought he heard groans, and,
bending over the dyke, discovered a child seated on a stone, writhing
from pain, and with pale face and tearful eyes.

"Boy," he exclaimed, "what are you doing there?"

"I am hindering the water from running out," was the answer, in
perfect simplicity, of the child, who, during the whole night, had
been evincing such heroic fortitude and undaunted courage.

--Sharpe's Magazine.

* * * * *

I copy these verses for two reasons. They teach trust in God; and they
were written by a gentleman who, I am sure, remembers with pleasure
when he was a scholar in the Sunday School; the request of whose
superintendents induced me to make this miniature book.

STORM AT SEA.

We were crowded in the cabin;
Not a soul would dare to sleep:
It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.

'Tis a fearful thing, in winter
To be shattered in the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet
Thunder, "Cut away the mast!"

So we shuddered there in silence;
For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers talked with Death.

As thus we sat in darkness,
Each one busy in his prayers,
"We are lost!" the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.

But his little daughter whispered,
As she took his icy hand,
"Isn't God upon the ocean
Just the same as on the land?"

Then we kissed the little maiden,
And we spoke in better cheer,
And we anchored safe in harbor
When the morn was shining clear.

J.T. Fields.

* * * * *

Here are two anecdotes: one for boys, the other for girls. When you
read the first, remember that all good deeds are not published, and
cherish always the belief that many kind acts are done which are never
put in print to be