moved. And she went on again, "Be honest and truthful, Archie, and give your heart to the Lord, and He will take care of you. Sing me once more our favourite hymn; " and she closed her eyes and

waited.

Poor Archie could hardly command his voice; but he could not refuse his mother's request, and almost choking, he began—

Then he stopped.

"The birds, without barn

Or storehouse, are fed;
From them let us learn

To trust for our bread:
His saints, what is fitting,
Shall ne'er be denied,
So long as 'tis written,

The Lord will provide.""

"Now the last verse," she whispered.

And again he softly sang—

"When life sinks apace,

And death is in view,

This word of His grace
Shall comfort us through:

No fearing or doubting,
With Christ on our side,

We hope to die shouting

"The Lord will provide.'

"Yes," whispered the mother, "'tis true for you, and true for me, 'The Lord will provide.' I don't fear, I know 'tis all right. Be brave and honest and true, Archie, and the Lord will care for you." She did not say any more, and Archie, overcome with fatigue and sorrow, fell asleep. And when he awoke in the morning, his mother was gone to her heavenly home!

At first his grief was overwhelming, but he had not much time to indulge in it. The landlady came up, and finding his mother gone, she made arrangements for the funeral. And in a few days Archie followed her to the grave.

"What are you going to do, my boy?" said a lady who happened to be standing near in the cemetery, and had noticed the poor little funeral, with the one solitary mourner. "Have you no father?"

"No, ma'am, there's no one left but me now," he said, sadly. "And what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, ma'am."

"Well, see here, I will give you this," she said, holding out half-acrown; "try and make the best of it."

Archie thanked her warmly, and went back to his lonely garret, where the landlady had consented to his staying on payment of one shilling and sixpence a week.

Next day he went out and spent a shilling on a good strong basket, and then he bought some apples, and went about selling them; and at the end of the day he found he had gained fourpence. This cheered him, and day after day he continued his work. Sometimes he was cheated by those he purchased the apples of; for when he had bought the apples and gone off, he found several were rotten. But he never tried to pass them off on others; he always remembered his mother's words, "Be honest and truthful."

A whole year passed by, and Archie had saved enough money to buy a wooden tray and trestles, with which to make a little stall to stand in the market-place. And a kind shopkeeper, Mr. Smith, who had often watched the boy, and noticed that he was always civil and industrious, gave him one day a small lamp, so that he could light up his stall and sell his fruit far on into the evening.

and

One afternoon-it was late in the year, and the days became dark soon after four o'clock-a young man came up to Archie's stall, said hurriedly

"Here, give me three-pennyworth of apples. I suppose you can change a shilling?"

"Yes," said Archie, and he at once handed him the coppers and the apples, and the young man hastened away. Archie thought the shilling felt rather light, and he made haste and lighted the lamp, that he might examine it better. He was holding it up, and turning it over, when Mr. Smith, the kind grocer, passed.

"What's the matter, my lad?" he asked-"got a bad coin?" "I'm afraid so, sir," said Archie, gravely.

"Let me look," said Mr. Smith, taking up the coin.

"It's a bad

one, sure enough," he said, presently. "Who gave it to you?"

A young man who seemed in a great hurry, and I gave him ninepence change," said Archie, regretfully.

t

Oh, well, can you not easily pass it off on some one else, and so get your money's worth? Then you will be no loser in pocket," said Mr. Smith.

Archie looked up with his honest blue eyes. "I wouldn't do such a thing for the world, sir," he said.

"Who'd know?" said Mr. Smith.

"I should know, and I should feel like a thief; and God would know. And mother's last words to me were, 'Be honest and truthful, and God will take care of you.' And I want to do right, and meet her again."

Mr. Smith was much touched. "You're right, my lad," he said; "hold to those principles, and you'll get on in life. I came round to say that I want an extra boy to help in my shop, and I wondered if you would like the situation; and now that I know better what sort of a lad you are, I should be glad to have you. Will you come?"

'Yes, sir, I'd only be too glad," said Archie, gratefully—" this sort of life isn't pleasant, and I'd be glad to have more regular work. Thank you, sir."

66 Well, come on Monday; and remember you owe this mainly to your honesty in not attempting to pass that bad coin."

Archie did well in life. God blessed him with prosperity, and he always said, "It was my mother's good advice that led me in the right way."

THE LITTLE CHINESE SLAVE GIRL WHO WAS TIRED OF LIFE.

Ir is Wednesday morning, about seven o'clock, and I am just thinking it is time I got up, when I hear my servant-boy's heavy tread on the stair. He comes right up to my room door and knocks.

"There is a man wanting you to go and see a girl who has taken opium," is what he says when I ask him what he has come for. "When did she take it?”

"Last night, but they say she did not take much, and that she can talk. She is a slave girl about thirteen years old."

So I am quickly dressed and off. We-that is, the man who came for me, my assistant, and myself-go along the less crowded streets near the river side, and by-and-by reach a long set of houses, very

about half a

respectable and large. We enter one of them, and find dozen well-dressed men sitting, smoking and chatting. One of them at once rises and welcomes me, leading the way to the inner rooms; and there, in a little cupboard-like place, we find a poor girl lying on a bed, her face and neck all smeared with blood, for they have been trying native methods of cure, and a fowl has been killed for the purpose of letting its warm blood fill her mouth.

Poor thing! she was past talking, and had been for a long time indeed, was only just alive. However, “Never despair,” is an Englishman's motto; and though the people in the house had given her up, and were paying no attention at all to her, for she was only a slave girl, we set to work to do our best. Alas! all is unavailing, and in a little more than an hour she has ceased to live.

What is done for her we do almost entirely ourselves. Though there are quite a number of men and women in the house, the only one to show any pity is an old woman, who perhaps herself is an old slave. After the first few minutes indeed, everybody leaves us to the girl, save this old woman, who does her best to help.

I always take an assistant with me when I go to opium cases, for I have found that the nearest relatives even are not always ready to lift and assist in the smallest ways. And I have known cases in which the people of the house not only showed no interest, but actually tried to hinder me. Once, a husband did his best to prevent my doing anything for his wife; and unless the neighbours had interfered and carried him away he would have been successful, and the woman, who was ultimately saved, might have died.

I asked whose slave she was; and when the master of the house told me she was his, I said, "How much did she cost?" "Oh, over a hundred strings of cash; I bought her two years ago," he answered carelessly. He had given about £20 for her.

Afterwards I asked, "Are you sure she took opium? "Yes," he said.

"You keep it in the house then, and smoke it yourself?" "Yes."

"Now if

you had not had it at hand, very likely the girl would not have taken any."

And then I went on to urge him and the other men to give up their opium pipes.

Perhaps you want to know why she took it. They made no secret They had been scolding and beating her.

of the reason.

And though I did my best to save her life, yet when all was over and I was coming home again, I could not but feel glad that the little slave girl had gone where no heathen master or mistress could embitter her life and make her long for death. For I cannot doubt the love of Him who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me,” and who gave Himself as surely for this little slave as for you and for me.-At Home and Abroad.

THE HORNEI'S NEST.

"WHEN I was young," said cousin Tom,
"At the old house that I came from

A honeysuckle used to grow,
That clambered round the portico.
How sweetly, I remember well,
Its yellow blossoms used to smell;
And how, one summer, in its shade,
Their great, gray nest the hornets made.

"Around the rooms they buzzing flew,
And wandered all the garden through,
And always knew precisely where
Grew sweetest plum and choicest pear.
With their dull drone and cruel stings,
They seemed such idle, spiteful things,
To drive them off, I said, one day,
'I'll tear their ugly nest away!'
'No, Tom,' my mother said; ' no, no!
You must not think of doing so;
You foolish boy; 'tis never best

To meddle with a hornet's nest.'

"Her good advice away was thrown:
The moment that I was alone

I climbed, and hold of it I caught
To pull it down; when, quick as thought,
Out flew the hornets, great and small,
And full of fury, one and all:

About my neck and face they clung,,