istened with emotion; "but I am a watchman, and I must
warn you of the fearful sin you are contemplating."

Meredith was silent. He was impressed with the earnestness displayed by
Mr. Wilkinson, and the solemn truths he had brought before him--truths
it would be well if all those who are looking forward to entering the
sacred ministry would seriously and prayerfully consider.

The tea bell ringing at this moment, the conversation was necessarily
concluded; but that evening after prayers, Mr. Wilkinson put into
Meredith's hand a piece of paper, on which were written the following
references: Num. xvi. 9; Isaiah lii. 7, 8; lxii. 6, 7; Jer. xxiii. 1-4;
Ezek. iii. 17-21; xxxiii. 1-9; xxxiv. 1-10; John xxi. 15-17;
1 Cor. ix. 16, 17, 19; and both the Epistles to Timothy; and underneath
the references was the Apostle's injunction, "Meditate upon these things;
give thyself wholly to them, that thy profiting may appear unto all."

When Louis was fairly in bed that night, he was called on for a story.

"Tell us the end of the princess Rosetta, Louis," cried Frank;
"I want to know how the fair animal got out of her watery bedroom,
and whether the green dog ever got his nose nipped by the oysters
he was so fond of snapping up."

"Yes, Rosetta!" cried several voices. "Did she ever get to the king
of the peacocks, Louis?"

"No, no," cried Reginald; "it is not fit for Sunday."

"I am sure we have been doing heaps of good things to-day,"
replied Frank, lightly; "come, Louis."

"I must not," said Louis, gently. "I do not like telling stories at
night at all, because I think we ought not to fill our heads with such
things when we are going to sleep; but I must not tell you Rosetta
to-night, Frank."

"Get along," said Frank, contemptuously; "you are not worth the snap
of a finger. All you are ever worth is to tell stories, and now you
must needs set up for a good, pious boy--you, forsooth of all others!"

"Indeed, Frank, you will not understand me."

"If you dare to say any more to Louis," cried Reginald, "I'll make you--"

Louis' hand was upon Reginald's mouth.

Frank replied, tauntingly, "Ay, finish your work this time, that's
right. Come boys, never mind, I'll tell you a wonderful tale."

"I think we'd better not have one to-night," said one; "perhaps
Mortimer's right."

"Don't have one, don't!" said Louis, starting up; "do not let us
forget that all this day is God's day, and that we must not even
speak our own words