e mother took it
cheerfully, rising earlier than usual, and sitting up late, in order
to finish the clothes before the examination of the school.

When Fred came up the stairs she was at work on the vest. She
listened with interest to all he had to say, especially when he
expressed his displeasure that Mrs. Perry did not even thank him for
carrying her kitty home.

Finding her too busy to talk much, he was going downstairs, when she
said,--

"Wait a minute, Fred; I want to try on this vest; and then I have
something to say to you."

"Need I take off my jacket, mother? I've tried it on so many times."

"Yes, dear, I've had to alter it a little. Stand still; I can't pin it
while you are jerking your head so continually."

"It hurts, ma. I can't bear to try on clothes," he said, impatiently.
"I had rather wear my old ones than to have to keep changing so many
times."

While Fred was buttoning his jacket again, Mrs. Carleton asked,
earnestly,--

"Did you say your prayer this morning?"

"No, ma'am, I forgot it."

"Do you often forget?"

"A good many times I do in the morning, because I hear the chickens
calling for their dough."

"But you don't forget to eat your breakfast."

"Oh, no, ma, of course not!"

"Nor to drink when you are thirsty, nor to warm yourself when it is
cold, nor to lie down to rest when you are weary."

"Of course, ma, I do that. Everybody does."

"But, Fred, who gives you your breakfast? Who provides a pleasant home
for you; a fire and clothes to warm you; a bed for you to rest upon?
Who gives you health and strength; a good appetite for your food? Who
made your form erect and vigorous, instead of lame and deformed, like
poor Israel Wasson? Do you ever think who has done all these things
for you?"

"God made me," said the boy; "and gave me all the blessings which I
enjoy. That's the answer in my catechism."

"My little son," said the lady, seriously; "you were much displeased
because Mrs. Perry expressed no gratitude for the small favor you did
her; but you confess that many mornings you forget to thank your
heavenly Father for all his kindness to you. You said,--

"'Catch me carrying her kitty home through all the mud again.'

"What if God should say, 'I have given Frederick Carleton a good
home, food to eat, clothes to wear, a house to live in, and friends to
love him. I have done this for eight years; but he seldom thanks me.
He jumps out of bed, runs to his breakfast, sati