to cry as if his heart would break. In the little bed next to his was a little girl, and, as she saw and heard him cry, she said—

"Willie, what makes you cry so? Don't you know that Jesus can help you? This is His ward, they say, and He loves us all very much; don't cry any more, but let's pray to Jesus to take your pain away.'

"He then said: 'I have been praying, Susie, and I have been asking Christ to take me, for, do you know they say that every night Jesus walks through our ward and takes one or two of us little children away with Him—those that love Him and want to go with Him; and I have been telling Him how much I want to go with Him, and that I can't bear to think of all the pain I will have to-morrow if He don't take me. And I will tell you, Susie, what I am going to do, for fear I should be asleep when Jesus comes. I am going to hold my hand up so, (and he held one hand by the wrist just above the bedclothes,) so that when Jesus walks through our room to-night He will see it, and know I want Him to take me, and He will see my hand, and know I am the one that wants so much to go with Him. I have told Him I would, and He will look for me.' And the children went to sleep. And early in the morning, when the nurse went to look at all the children, there she saw little Willie stiff and cold in death, with his hand just above the bedclothes, held up by the other, as he had told Jesus He would find him.”

I dropped my work with a merry heart,
And Willie and I together

We made the cocked hat gay and smart,
With its plume of prince's-feather.

I set it firm on his bonny head,

Where the yellow curls were dancing; I kissed his cheeks that were rosy red,

And his mouth where smiles were glancing; Then off he ran, the beautiful boy!

My eager eyes ran after,

And my heart brimmed over with loving joy At the ring of his happy laughter.

Back to their work my fingers flew—
I was sewing a frock for Willie-
A little white frock with a band of blue,
That would make him look like a lily.
For he was fair as a flower, with eyes
Of the real heavenly colour;

They were like the blue of the August skies,
And only the least bit duller.

I never guessed when he ran from me,
With his laugh out-ringing cheerly,
That it was the last time I should see
Those blue eyes loved so dearly.
I sat at my work, and I sang aloud
From a glad heart overflowing,

Nor ever dreamed it was Willie's shroud
That I was so busy sewing.

I folded the frock away complete,
And I had no thought of sorrow,
But only that Willie would look so sweet
When I dressed him in it to-morrow.
And down to the garden-gate I ran—
For I thought I heard them drumming-

To see if, perhaps, my little man,

And Charlie and Dick were coming.

But one of them showed me the little cocked hat,
With the wilted prince's-feather!

"What does this mean? Is Willie dead?"

He began to tremble and shiver:

"We were skipping stones," with a gasp he said-
"And Willie-fell in the river!

I asked no more. They brought him home-
My Willie! my little Willie!

His curls all tangled and wet with foam,

His white face set so stilly.

I combed the curls, though my eyes were dim,

And my heart was sick with sorrow:

And the little frock I made for him

He wore, indeed, on the morrow.

Somewhere, carefully laid away,

Through summer and winter weather,

I keep the hat he wore that day,

And the bit of prince's-feather.

It is only dust that was once a flower,

But there never will bloom another,

In sun or shower, that will have such power
To wring the heart of his mother.

THOMAS DANKS, PRINTER, crane COURT, FLEET STREET, LONDON.

LONDON RALPH FENWICK, 6, SUTTON STREET, COMMERCIAL ROAD, E. PRICE ONE HALF-PENNY.

MOTHER AND SICK CHILD.

WHO can comprehend or fathom a mother's love? Nobody. What will not a mother's love lead her to do for her child? Anything, everything, even to the risking of her own life. And if her child be sick, her love becomes all the more intense and self-sacrificing in its action. How she will wear herself out with waiting and watching at the bedside of her sick child for days and nights together, thinking it no trouble-nay, finding in it her joy. How much we have all been indebted to the tender, self-denying love of mother. How she cared for us when we could not care for ourselves, and bore with our naughtiness, and provided for our happiness; and how often, when suffering from sickness of one kind or other, how tenderly and lovingly she nursed us. We can never pay the debt we owe for mother's kindness. The least we can do is to love her truly and sincerely, and do all we can to please her and make her happy.

HOW WE CAUGHT THE FOX.

ON a fine summer evening, just as we had left off work in the fields, one of the boys came rushing on to the playground in breathless haste, declaring he had seen a fox run into a drain at the bottom of the meadow. The announcement, as might be expected, threw us all into a state of the wildest excitement.

The drain was but a short one, that ran crosswise under a narrow lane adjacent to the fields, and it occurred to us immediately to block up the entrance and compel him to make his exit at the other end, one of our number being there ready with a sack to give him a polite reception.

One of the most courageous of the boys, becoming impatient for the result of the experiment, proposed to creep into the mouth of the drain and compel Mr. Reynard to vacate his quarters. On first attempting to do so he very speedily lost courage. The sight of two fiercely glaring eyes cooled him down considerably; but seeming all at once to bethink himself of some expedient, he ran to the schoolhouse and provided himself with two strong table-forks. Grasping one firmly in each hand, he again commenced his journey up the drain. The glaring eyes were still too much for him; and, finding himself rather tightly jammed as he was forcing his way along, it occurred to him that, if put upon his defence, he would be in a rather