e get some?"

"I don't believe mamma would like it. She said we mustn't buy things
on Sunday."

"She'll never know. That's nothing bad, either."

When the collection basket was passed around, Harlis looked almost
ready to cry. "Did you forget your money?" said Miss Beatrice,
pleasantly. Harlis so seldom came without it that it was noticeable.

"Yes'm," answered the little boy, almost without thinking what he was
saying. He was so uncomfortable, and Willie was making eyes at him.

"Never mind, bring it next Sunday," said Miss Beatrice, noticing the
flushed face and telltale eyes, and not understanding quite what it
meant.

If mamma had not been sick, the trouble would surely have come out
earlier, because mamma would have seen in a minute that something was
wrong. After the late dinner, there was nothing to do but cuddle up in
the corner of the sofa with his books. Just as it was growing dark,
papa came down from the sick room. He found Harlis with his head
buried in the sofa cushion.

"What's the matter?" said papa briskly, picking up his little boy.
"Lonesome? Too bad! Thought you went to Aunt Lucy's with Esther."

"I didn't want to," said Harlis, breaking out in big, shaking sobs.

Papa knew something was wrong, then, and by degrees the story came
out.

Papa said very little, for he seemed to understand the real suffering
Harlis had already gone through because of his wrongdoings.

"But the nickel was mine," said Harlis, as he and mamma were talking
it over.

"Was it?" said mamma. "What did I give it to you for?"

"For the poor little girl."

"You can put it back, but you must earn it," she said.

"Oh, I will! I will!" Harlis was only too glad to do this. "And I'll
never do so again, mamma."

And his mamma felt sure he never would.

--_Written for Dew Drops by Florence Maule._

* * * * *

THE LIGHT OF A SMILE.

If it drizzles and pours,
Is there any reason
The weather indoors
Should be dull, like the season?
There is something makes bright
The cloudiest places;
Can you guess? 'Tis the light
Of the smiles on your faces.
--_Selected_.

* * * * *

Mother's Valentines

By Elizabeth P. Allan

"Davie boy, I wish you would get up early to-morrow morning," said
Mrs. Forbes; "I want your help in sending out some valentines."

Davie opened his sleepy eyes wide