ther was sitting in the chimney-corner, and
reading a book, while three or four ragged children were tumbling upon
the floor, and creeping between their father's legs.

"Daddy," said the little boy, as he came in, "here is Master Merton, who
was so good to us all in the summer; he has lost his way in the wood,
and is almost perished in the snow."

The man upon this arose, and with much civility desired the two little
boys to seat themselves by the fire, while the good woman ran to fetch
her largest faggot, which she threw upon the fire, and created a
cheerful blaze in an instant. "There, my dear little master," said she,
"you may at least refresh yourself by our fire, and I wish I had
anything to offer you that you could eat; but I am afraid you would
never be able to bear such coarse brown bread as we poor folks are
obliged to eat." "Indeed," said Tommy, "my good mother, I have fasted so
long, and I am so hungry, that I think I could eat anything." "Well,
then," answered the woman, "here is a little bit of gammon of bacon
which I will broil for you upon the embers, and if you can make a supper
you are heartily welcome."

While the good woman was thus preparing supper the man had closed his
book, and placed it with great respect upon a shelf, which gave Tommy
the curiosity to ask him what he was reading about. "Master," answered
the man, "I was reading the Book which teaches me my duty towards man,
and my obligations to God; I was reading the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and
teaching it to my children."

_Tommy._--Indeed, I have heard of that good Book; Mr Barlow has often
read part of it to me, and promised I should read it myself. That is the
Book they read at church; I have often heard Mr Barlow read it to the
people; and he always reads it so well and so affectingly that everybody
listens, and you may hear even a pin drop upon the pavement.

_The Man._--Yes, master, Mr Barlow is a worthy servant and follower of
Jesus Christ himself; he is the friend of all the poor in the
neighbourhood; he gives us food and medicines when we are ill, and he
employs us when we can find no work; but what we are even more obliged
to him for than the giving us food and raiment, and life itself, he
instructs us in our duty, makes us ashamed of our faults, and teaches us
how we may be happy, not only here, but in another world. I was once an
idle, abandoned man myself, given up to swearing and drinking,
neglecting my family, and taking no