her actions through,
Just the same, I know, you'll think.
School or home,
Tasks or play,
Books or toys,
Every way,
Order keeps this loving girl,
With her auburn hair a-curl.

Friend of Youth.

* * * * *

What boy or girl in the Sunday School has not heard of Grace Darling?
Are not these two women, whose noble deeds are told below, worthy to
be called her sister-spirits?

THE HEROINE OF PILLAU.

A most interesting story is told, in a late German paper, of a
remarkable woman in Pillau, Prussia, whose heroism of character
certainly rises into the gigantic, or whose intrepidity, to say the
least, appears to be unprecedented. This woman, by a truly generous
daring, is the widow of a seaman, with whom, for upwards of twenty
years, she made long voyages; and, since his death, she has devoted
her life, for his memory's sake, to the noble and perilous task of
carrying aid to the drowning. Her name is Katherine Klenfoldt.
Whenever a storm arises, whether by day or night, she embarks in her
boat, and quits the harbor in search of ship-wrecks. At the age of
forty-seven, she has already rescued upwards of three hundred
individuals from certain death. The population of Pillau venerate her
as something holy, and the seamen look upon her as their
guardian-angel. All heads are uncovered as she passes along the
street. The Prussian and several other governments have sent her their
medals of civil merit: the municipality of Pillau has conferred on her
the freedom of her town. She possesses an athletic figure and great
strength, seeming to be furnished by nature in view of a capacity to
go through wild scenes and high deeds. Her physiognomy is somewhat
masculine, with the expression softened by a look of gentleness and
goodness.

A GENUINE PHILANTHROPIST.

The island of Rona is a small and very rocky spot of land, lying
between the isle of Skye and the main land of Applecross, and is well
known to mariners for the rugged and dangerous nature of the coast.
There is a famous place of refuge at the north-western extremity,
called the "Muckle Harbor," of very difficult access, however; which,
strange to say, is easier to be entered at night than during the day.
At the extremity of this hyperborean solitude is the residence of a
poor widow, whose lonely cottage is called the "light-house," from the
fact that she uniformly keeps a lamp burning in her little window at
night. By k