CHARLIES PET. (Continued from p. 4.)

ELLING her pupils that they must stay awhile for her, she hurried Charlie to the village baker's, which was close by ; the trays of hot buns and rolls were coming up from the oven,and smelt very nice; but Miss Barton did not approve of such an unwholesome thing as new bread, so she made Charlie sit down in Mrs. Jones's little parlour, close to the fire, and saw him supplied with a good luncheon of bread and cheese, while a large loaf and a bag of buns were put aside for him to take home. “Do you know these Gibbses, Mrs. Jones?” asked Miss Barton, while choosing her loaf. “Yes, indeed, ma'am, that I do 1" was the answer; “and honest people they be: though they're hard put to it many a time, I'm never afeard to trust them, for I know I shan't lose in the long run.” As the children were waiting impatientl for her coming, to go on to the pond, Miss Barton had to hurry away without any further explanation, making up her mind, however, that she would go and see Mrs. Gibbs again as soon as she could. Dr. Blake was at home, and told Charlie he would come, and very likely would be at the house before he was. The boy set off back again with a much lighter heart than he had gone the same road an hour or two earlier. He had had his dinner, and a good one it was. The loaf he carried was so big that they could all eat as much as they wanted that day. Then there were the buns ! and as Charlie looked down on them through an opening in the bag, he saw two little parcels of tea and sugar, which Mrs. Jones had of herown accord put in for his mother. “Now, my good woman,” said Dr. Blake, as he stood by Mrs. Gibbs' bedside that afternoon, “you must keep yourself quite quiet; don't do more work than you can help; live well; have soup and meatas often as you can get them. Mr. Gibbs, you must give your wife some broth now directly,

and again before nightfall; it will do her more good than physic.” And so saying the doctor departed, not looking on the right hand or the left as he d out of the cottage, or surely the sight of its bare walls might have made him wonder where the broth and meat were to come from. Charlie had been standing beside his mother, listening gravely to Dr. Blake's advice, and had seen his father's look of trouble as he turned away. Child as he was, he could read in that look what a sad burden it was to him to know that his dear wife wanted just the very things he had no chance of getting for her. He saw his father sit down by the bed, now the doctor was gone, and cover his face with his hands, as he often did when he was tired, and he heard his mother doing her best to comfort him.

be quiet and have a good cup of tea, and I shall get better without the broth. Per

haps to-morrow or next day the frost will go, and you’ll get to work again. At any

rate,” she went on, as her husband was still silent, “our God has helped us oncetoday, and can do so again when He sees fit.”

Charlie stole out of the room and went downstairs; Willie was crying, and wished some one to play with him : so his brother took him up and carried him to the woodhouse, where Tom the pigeon was pecking about among the rubbish, looking for a stray grain or two which might have fallen there. “Tom 1 Tommie "" called Charlie, and the tame little creature flew at once to his master's shoulder, and sat there, looking quietly down at the baby, till the child made a snatch at him, when he hopped further off, to the top of his master's head. What was it made Charlie turn so pale as he took his pet in his hand and looked at it? then, as the bird softly cooed its pleasure, what made him burst

into tears He cried as if his heart would

break, and his tears fell on the dove's soft plumage as it nestled close to him, while the baby stroked his wet face with his fat hands, and said pityingly, “Poor, poor!" For a few minutes this went on, and then Charlie's mind was made up. He bid Walter take care of the baby, and holding his pet in his trembling hands lest it should

fly away, went to look for his father, whom he found sitting in the kitchen by the fire. “ Father!” he said, putting the bird on his knee, “mother ought to have some broth to-night.” And having said thus much he turned and ran away as fast as he could, out of hearing of any sound from the cottage, away into the fields, not minding the cold or wind, and crying bitterly as he ran.

“And you are better, Mrs. Gibbs, I am glad to find ?" said Miss Barton, a week afterwards. She had not forgotten Charlie, and had spent her first spare afternoon in walking to see him, with Minna Wilson, her eldest pupil. She found Mrs. Gibbs downstairs at work. To be sure her needle moved slowly, and she looked weak and tired ; but then her husband had got a fine job to do for a farmer close by, which would keep him on for some weeks at least, and Mrs. Gibbs felt happy and hopeful.

“Yes, ma'am, I'm better, thank you," she said, in answer to the lady's question ; s much better; and the children are well too: we shall do nicely now, if it please

"And how is Charlie ?” asked Miss Barton, turning to look for her old acquaintance ; but Charlie, after he had pulled his long front lock to the ladies, and set a couple of chairs for them, had disappeared. Mrs. Gibbs went carefully to the door and shut it, after looking in vain for the children, who had gone to their play further in the fields.

"Has Charlie been naughty ?" asked Minna, as she buried her hands comfortably in her muff, and thought how miserable the furniture of the cottage looked.

“Oh, no, miss," said his mother. “Charlie is as seldom naughty as any child I ever know'd. The truth is, ma'am (turning to Miss Barton), he's in trouble."

“How so ?” asked Miss Barton. “I thought he seemed far from happy when we came in."

“Well, ma'am, the day he met you, and you were so kind to us, I was ill in bed, and the doctor said I must have some broth. There was nothing in the house to make it of, and no money to buy meat, for my husband was out of work ; so Char

lie heard what we were talking of, and fetched his pet pigeon, that he'd reared from a little thing, and brought it to his father for him to kill it, and make it into broth for me."

“And did he do so ?” cried Minna.

“Yes, miss,” said Mrs. Gibbs, quietly enough," he did, and I took the broth; and could not think wherever it had come from, or I'd sooner have starved than touched it, we were so fond of it-pretty creature !"

“And is that why Charlie looks so sad ?" asked the young lady, gently.

“Yes, miss: he's fretted about it ever since ; and even the baby asks where Tom's gone to : and there's the box half full of food they gathered for it in the autumn."

“It must be a comfort to you to have such a boy," said Miss Barton, whose eyes had filled with tears as she listened to the story of the child's sacrifice.

"It is indeed, ma'am ; he's main loving to me : indeed I don't know what I could do without him.”

“Minna," asked Miss Barton, “don't you think he might like to see your pigeons, if his mother would let him come over to the Hall to-morrow? It is the beginning of your holidays, you know, and you will have plenty of spare time.”

“Oh, yes, Miss Barton ! the very thing! Do send him, Mrs. Gibbs. We've lots of pigeons, young and old, and all sorts of queer shapes and colours : he shall see every one, if he comes at two o'clock - it's their feeding time.”

After a little more chat the ladies set off homewards again, Minna now quite as eager in planning what could be done for the Gibbses (Charlie especially), as she had been before careless.

“I never heard of such a thing !” she exclaimed, as soon as they were fairly on the road. “To think of that child giving up his pet ir that way when he was so fond of it! They must be very poor.”

“You thought he was a stupid-looking, disagreeable boy," returned Miss Barton.

“Yes, Miss Barton ; but you know I knew nothing about him when I said that. If he was quite as disagreeable now as I thought him, I should not mind. I wonder if all the poor people one sees have