Don't Learn to Smoke.

A LITTLE boy, of years unripe,
One day espied a half-filled pipe-
Strong-scented, dirty, short, and brown-
Which some tough smoker had laid down ;
The wish to smoke like men possessed
This little fellow's boyish breast.

So, secretly, he took and lighted
The brown old pipe; and then, delighted,
Perhaps half flustered at his daring,
He soon the smoker's sport was sharing,
Through the short stem the smoke he drew,
And from his lips light clouds he blew—
He pulled away, puff followed puff,
And, though he did not like the stuff,
He felt, no doubt, mannish enough.
But soon his stolen pleasures waned;
Disgust on satisfaction gained-
Like a sly demon, strong and grim,
The nauseous poison mastered him.
Sick, sick he grew, as he deserved-

Poor brain and heart seemed all unnerved;
Pale was he as a porcelain dish;
Then, like a certain ancient fish-
But draw a curtain o'er a scene
Not nice to be rehearsed, I ween.
That kind of pipe is one that none
Should ever try to play upon !

Boys, would you be real men indeed?
Then, with firm wills, keep from the weed!
Such a decision you'll not rue—
'Tis best for mind, nerves, pockets too;
Keep yourselves pure, and thus be free
From this debasing slavery!

The Soldier's Prayer.

Ir was the evening after a great battle. Among the many who bowed to the conqueror, Death, that night was a youth in the first freshness of mature life. The strong limbs lay listless, and the dark hair was matted with gore on the pale, broad forehead. His eyes were closed. As one who ministered to the sufferer bent over him, he at first thought him dead, but the white lips moved, and slowly, in weak tones, he repeated

'Now I lay me down to sleep;

I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take;
And this I ask for Jesus' sake.'

Opening his eyes, and meeting the pitying gaze of a brother soldier, he exclaimed

'My mother taught me that when I was a little boy, and I have said it every night since I could remember. Before the morning dawns I believe God will take my soul 'for Jesus' sake;' but before I die I want to send a message to my mother.'

He was carried to a temporary hospital, and to his mother he dictated a letter full of Christian faith and filial love. Just as the sun rose his spirit went home, his last articulate words being—

'I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take;
And this I ask for Jesu's sake.'

The prayer of childhood was the prayer of manhood. He learned it at his mother's knee in infancy, and he whispered it in dying when his manly life ebbed away on a distant battle-field.

God bless the saintly words, loved and repeated alike by high and low, rich and poor, wise and ignorant, old and young! Happy the soul that can repeat them with the holy fervour of a dying soldier! -Dr. H. Bonar.

Does God really Answer Prayer.

MRS. R was a poor widow. For several years she had laboured hard to support herself and three children. At last, however, there came a day when she found herself unable to meet the demands upon her, for weakness and pain had followed the long days of incessant toil, and although work was plentiful, she lacked the strength to complete it in time. Rent-day would come on the morrow, and food was needed for her little family. It was sad indeed; and weary and almost despairing, she bent her head over her work, and wept the bitterest tears of all her widowhood. Her little son tried to comfort her, and putting his arms about her neck, said, 'Mamma, why do you cry? Had we not better pray? Rebuked by the child's faith, she wiped away the tears, and replied, 'True, Jamie, let us pray; and the God of the fatherless, who has been our help and refuge so long, will not forsake us.'

She immediately laid outside the unfinished work, and went to her room. There she spent several hours in earnest prayer, laying before God all her weakness and need. Night came on, and, calmed and comforted with the assurance of His faithfulness, she slept peacefully.

Early the next morning a barrel of flour was

brought to her door, and scarcely had she time for joyful thanksgiving to God for his goodness ere her heart was again gladdened by the appearance of a brother from whom she had not heard for many months. After the usual salutations, he inquired, 'Did you just receive a barrel of flour?' 'Yes,' she said. 'Did you need it?' 'Yes, indeed I did, and I expected it.' 'You expected it!' in astonishment. 'Yes, for I have been asking God to move your heart in my behalf.' And then followed the story of her past want and struggle, and present need.

The strong man rose, and paced the floor, while tears dimmed his eyes. At last, taking a seat beside her, he said, 'I, too, have a story to tell. A few days since I met E-, your old friend. She said, 'When have you heard from Mary R-?' I replied, 'I have not heard lately, but mean to go and see her soon.' 'Well,' she said, 'I have had a very singular dream about her, and I believe her to be in very straitened circumstances. I want you to go and see her to-day.' I said, 'I cannot go to-day, but will send her a barrel of flour.' 'That is just what I want you to do,' she replied; 'but I want you to go and see her.' I promised to do so, but I could not rest until I had sent the flour, and made up my mind to come immediately. I see that God has sent me.'

Before leaving, he gave her other substantial aid. The rent was paid, and comforts secured, which lightened the load, and brought back a degree of comfort to the poor home.

None can know but those who have cried unto God in their need, and received according to His promise, the gratitude that filled her heart and overflowed upon her lips. God had been to her always a 'present help in every time of trouble ;' but never had the promises seemed so sure, or her faith in God so strong, as on that night, when, leaving all care with Him, she had trusted herself also to 'the everlasting arms.'

There's Fortune on Before us.

THERE'S fortune on before us, boys!
We'll seek it day by day,
And if we strive and persevere,
"Twill meet us half the way.
With toilful brow and stalwart arm,
We've sought it far and near;
O never let your courage fail,
But strive and persevere.

With honest truth, and good stout hearts, Wherever we may roam,

No thorny path or rugged road

But leads us safely home.

So join with head, with heart and hand,
And drive despair away;

For better times are coming, boys;
We'll work and win the day.

Then courage, boys! the day will come
To soothe our toil and pain,
When happiness shall smile on us,

And in our dwellings reign;
And we shall live to bless the hour
We strove to win the day;
So fortune will our efforts crown,
And meet us on the way.

England in the Past.

MEATS used to be brought in on to the spits just as they were cooked, and the carver held the meat in one hand while he cut off huge chunks with a razorshaped knife held in the other, each guest helping himself with his fingers and eating what he desired, throwing the remainder with the bones under the 'board' for the dogs and cats.

Knives were but little used even as late as the times of Henry VIII., and forks came in a whole century later, having been borrowed from Venice during the reign of James I. A writer of those days described the fork as 'an instrument to hold meat, provided for each person at dinner, it being considered by the refined Venitian as ill-mannered to touch the viands with the fingers.'

ancestors.

For hundreds of years the simple convenience of plates for eating on was totally unknown to our At first they used huge slices of bread on which the meat and gravy were placed, while other bread was supplied for eating with the meat. After each one had finished he ate his plate or 'trencher' as it was then called, if he chose, and if not it was put with all the remnants of the meal into the alms-basket and sent out to the poor, who were always waiting at the gate for their share of the repast. The poor were never forgotten by our Saxon ancestors, and our very word 'lady' comes to us from the Saxon 'laff-day,' which means breadgiver, because the mistress of a manor used in those days to distribute, with her own hands, bread and

other necessaries to the poor in her domain. Gradually these 'trenchers' of bread were exchanged for real plates, made of silver for rich people, and of wood or pewter for the poor, until the introduction of crockery.

Even fruits and flowers were rare and costly luxuries, scantily enjoyed by the wealthy, and almost unknown among those of moderate means. Apples were introduced from Syria in 1525; strawberries from Flanders in 1530; gooseberries from the same country a few years later; currants from Corinth in 1533; pears from China and Continental Europe in 1590; plums from Damascus in 1596; and walnuts from America in 1629. Most of our garden flowers were taken to England from various lands during the reign of Henry VIII. and his three children, and thence have been subsequently imported to America. Cabbages and salads were introduced from Flanders as late as 1520, and cauliflowers, a century and a half later, were considered too rare and expensive to be sold in the markets. At the beginning of the seventeenth century few people even knew the taste of beans, peas, or lettuce; and a great proportion of our ordinary dishes were unheard of delicacies until 1,500 years after the commencement of the Chris

tian era.

Yeast for bread was not brought into requisition until the year 1634, and previous to the reign of James I. the ordinary bread of the country was a coarse, unleavened, black mass of barley meal that in our day would not be tolerated by the very poorest.

England had her first carriage in 1533, her first hackney-coach in 1650, her first mail- coach in 1784, had her first watch in 1658; while it was only in the year 1641 and 1658 respectively that tea and coffee came into general use by our ances

tors.

Granted Wishes.

Two little girls let loose from school
Queried what each would be;
One said, 'I'd be a queen and rule ;'
And one, 'The world I'd see.'

The years went on. Again they met
And queried what had been;
'A poor man's wife am I, and yet,'
Said one, 'I am a queen.

'My realm a happy household is,
My king a husband true;

I rule by loving services:
How has it been with you?'

One answered, 'Still the great world lies
Beyond me as it laid;

O'er love and duty's boundaries
My feet have never strayed.

'Faint murmurs of the wide world come
Unheeded to my ear;

My widowed mother's sick bedroom
Sufficeth for my sphere.'

They clasped each other's hands; with tears
Of solemn joy they cried,

'God gave the wish of our young years, And we are satisfied.'

63

-John G. Whittier.

An Expostulation.

'KEEP off, Rover; don't jump on me as you are doing. Don't you see how you are dirtying my clothes, and making me spill the milk? Oh, dear, whatever will mother say? I'm sure she will be angry with me, and give me a good calling. Keep off, Rover; you know the milk is not for you; why, then, do you jump on me as if you wanted to have it? There again, just look! some more spilt. Oh, dear, I don't know what to do or say to you, Rover. I don't want to be hard upon you, for you are a good house-dog, and very clever among the sheep. But you are getting me into a fine scrape just now. There won't be sufficient milk for breakfast, and mother will lay the blame on me. And then, what will she say about my clothes being in such a mess? What a scraping and brushing they will take before I can be fit to go to school. Oh, dear, I don't know how I shall face mother. If I tell her you are to blame, she will say I should have kept you off. And so I would if I could, but you are too big and strong for me. Now, Rover, there's a good dog, do keep off and let me alone, and when we get home I will give you some of my porridge.'

Nor long since, Lily, a little girl of five years, after saying her evening prayers, began to indulge in an original petition of her own, varying it according to her moods. She was aware that she had not been particularly good on a certain day, and her evening prayers were thus supplemented: 'I pray the Lord to make Lily a good little girl, and if at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again.'