nge emotion, for which he could give no reason.
Something there is in the voice of real prayer that thrills a child's
heart, even before he understands it; the holy tones are a kind of
heavenly music, and far off in distant years, the callous and worldly
man, often thrills to his heart's core, when some turn of life recalls
to him his mother's prayer.

So passed the first years of the life of Fred. Meanwhile his little
sister had come to toddle about the cottage floor, full of insatiable
and immeasurable schemes of mischief. It was she that upset the clothes
basket, and pulled over the molasses pitcher on to her own astonished
head, and with incredible labor upset every pail of water that by
momentary thoughtlessness was put within reach. It was she that was
found stuffing poor, solemn old pussy head first into the water jar,
that wiped up the floor with her mother's freshly-ironed clothes, and
jabbered meanwhile, in most unexampled Babylonish dialect, her own
vindications and explanations of these misdemeanors. Every day her
mother declared that she must begin to get that child into some kind of
order; but still the merry little curly pate contemned law and order,
and laughed at all ideas of retributive justice, and Fred and his mother
laughed and deplored, in the same invariable succession, the various
direful results of her activity and enterprise.

But still, as Mary toiled on, heavy cares weighed down her heart. Her
boy grew larger and larger, and her own health grew feebler in
proportion as it needed to be stronger. Sometimes a whole week at a time
found her scarce able to crawl from her bed, shaking with ague, or
burning with fever; and when there is little or nothing with which to
replace them, how fast food seems to be consumed, and clothing to be
worn out! And so at length it came to pass that, notwithstanding the
labors of the most tireless of needles, and the cutting, clipping, and
contriving of the most ingenious of hands, the poor mother was forced to
own to herself that her darlings looked really shabby, and kind
neighbors one by one hinted and said that she must do something with her
boy--that he was old enough to earn his own living; and the same idea
occurred to the spirited little fellow himself.

He had often been along by the side of the canal, and admired the
horses; for between a horse and Fred there was a perfect magnetic
sympathy, and no lot in life looked to him so bright and desirable as to