as wheeling gave a lurch,
and in consequence the tiny seed rolled along until it slipped down a
crevice in the lid, and found a comfortable resting-place inside amongst
some soft hay with which the case was packed.

'This is cosy,' it remarked, nestling in the warmth; 'perhaps after all
I am reserved for some good purpose. I had become desponding, but there
is always a brightness behind the darkest cloud.'

So it cuddled down contentedly, not knowing or heeding whither it was
taken, only resting satisfied with the reflection that whatever happened
was for the best. And so the packing-case was put on board one of the
great ships in the docks, and in a few days away sailed the ship,
packing-case, and little seed, far over the ocean, leaving England many
thousand miles behind.

Not having been to Australia, we cannot describe what the little seed
next beheld. But when the sun once again shone upon it, it was in a very
different country to this dear land of ours.

The case had been emptied of its contents, and the hay and straw with
which it had been packed was thrown aside upon the ground, and there lay
the seed, so tiny that it was quite unheeded, indeed it is to be doubted
whether it was even seen; but the loving God, who has created nothing in
vain, had still a use for the small grain. A soft wind came and carried
it to some moist earth, into which it sank, thankful for the rest and
quiet after the past turmoil.

But its work was not finished.

By and by came up a little slender green shoot, then a leaf or two, and
after a while, in due season, some pretty bell-shaped flowers, almost
white, with just a tinge of delicate purple, made their appearance, and
there they swayed in the breeze--English Wood Anemones in a distant
land.

And in this distant land a young English girl had her home; and bright
and beautiful it was, with huge trees and gorgeous flowers, unheard of
and unseen in the country village from which she had come. But, bright
and beautiful as her new home was, she often sighed for the green
hedgerows and sweet wayside flowers of dear old England; not that she
murmured because God had sent her thither, only the love of her old home
and old home memories yet lingered in her heart.

Think, then, what her joy was, when, one day as she wandered alone,
gazing on gorgeous blossoms rich in brilliant colours, down at her feet
she spied, waving its delicate-tinted elf-bells in the warm, soft
breeze, the Wood