of giving
me just enough for next Sabbath, He has given me enough, for seven
Sabbaths.

Then the thought came, somebody lost it; yes, it was my duty to find the
owner, which I did not expect would be difficult, although it was in
town. So I cheerfully gave it up, thinking that 'the Lord will provide'
in some other way. I took it directly to my teacher, and asked her to
find the owner. She made faithful inquiry, but no one was found to claim
it. Who can question this being an answer to prayer, when we think of
the numerous _chances_ against its occurring just as it did."

A CHILD'S PRAYER FOR PAPA.

A drunkard, who had run through his property, returned one night to his
unfurnished house. He entered his empty hall. Anguish was gnawing at his
heart-strings, and language was inadequate to express his agony as he
entered his wife's apartment, and there beheld the victims of his
appetite, his loving wife and a darling child. Morose and sullen, he
seated himself without saying a word; he could not speak; he could not
look up then. The mother said to the little angel at her side, "Come, my
child, it is time to go to bed;" and that little baby, as she was wont,
knelt by her mother's lap and gazing wistfully into the face of her
suffering parent, like a piece of chiseled statuary, slowly repeated her
nightly orison. When she had finished, the child (but four years of age)
said to her mother, "Dear Mother, may I not offer up one more prayer?"
"Yes, yes, my sweet pet, pray;" and she lifted up her tiny hands, closed
her eyes, and prayed: "O God! spare, oh! spare my dear papa!" That
prayer was lifted with electric rapidity to the throne of God. It was
heard on high--it was heard on earth. The responsive "Amen!" burst from
the father's lips, and his heart of stone became a heart of flesh. Wife
and child were both clasped to his bosom, and in penitence he said: "My
child, you have saved your father from the grave of a drunkard. I'll
sign the pledge!"

A LITTLE QUAKER BOY'S PRAYER RIGHT OUT IN MEETING.

A little Quaker boy, about six years old, after sitting, like the rest
of the congregation, in silence, all being afraid to speak first, as he
thought, got up on the seat, and, folding his arms over his breast,
murmured in a clear, sweet voice, just loud enough to be distinctly
heard on the front seat, "I do wish the Lord would make us all gooder,
and gooder, and gooder, till there is no bad left."

WHAT THE LITTLE CHIL