'Pray, what are you doing here yet?' she asked; · who gave you leave to stand there?'

'Mr. Harvey said I was to wait and have something to eat when I came,' was the reply.

'Oh, indeed! a pretty creature you are, to be sure, to enter a decent house,' she retorted, retreating into the kitchen, pulling her dress tightly around her. As she did so, in case it should happen to come in too close contact with our hero, she said, 'I wonder what master 'll do next! Oh, you may come in!' she added, as the boy did not offer to stir. Thank goodness we hav'n't the likes of you coming every day!' whereupon the lad stepped inside the warm cosy-looking kitchen, which was as clean as human hands could make it. A great fire shed its ruddy blaze over everything, making the tins which were arranged on tiers of shelves, called pewter-cases in those days, shine like burnished silver. The boy rubbed his numb hands together as though he thoroughly appreciated the delightful glow of warmth which surrounded him; but he kept his position on the mat, never offering to draw near to the fire.

He had not stood there above a minute or two, however, before the housekeeper made her appearance, who, on beholding the figure on the doormat, lifted up her eyes and hands to the ceiling, exclaiming in a tone of horror, 'The Lord deliver us! The master must be gone mad to send such a creature as this to his house!'

'Just what I think, ma'm,' put in the pert housemaid. 'I-'

'Hold your tongue, Bridget!' said her mistress; I wasn't speaking to you, mind your own business, and let other people's alone! What's your name, boy, and where do you come from?' she added, addressing the lad.

'They call me James Howard, ma'am, and I come from Lincolnshire,' was the reply.

'Lincolnshire,' repeated his questioner. 'Why isn't that the place where the people are all webfooted ?'

'I never knew they was, ma'am,' James answered, thinking the housekeeper was a very odd sort of person to have got hold of such an idea; 'leastways, them as I've seen wasn't.'

'Ah!' she said, nodding her head gravely; 'but, then, you hav'n't seen everybody in it, so what you say goes for nothing. I've heard say that the people who live there have feet just like ducks, and I know some of 'em have!

I may as well mention that there was in the time of which I write, and, indeed, for many years later, a saying that the people who lived in that rich and fertile county possessed the thing imputed to them by Mrs. Johnson, the idea arising, no doubt, from the fens being in the winter time flooded for several miles; therefore, if the inhabitants were web-footed, they would be enabled to traverse its way in the same manner as ducks cross a pond. The ignorant once-and not so long ago eitherfirmly believed in the saying.

(To be continued.)

A Narrow Escape.

A GENTLEMAN hunting in Norway once had a very panied by his dogs, and found a bear asleep, which narrow escape. He set out in the morning, accomhe managed with some difficulty to rouse. Being over eager or too confident, he missed the bear, which at once felled him to the ground, and lay down upon him. Fortunately, the snow covered the earth to a considerable depth, and the gentleman buried himself well in it, then lay quite still, as if he were dead. The bear was an old animal, and its worn teeth had not done much injury to the fallen hunter. Meanwhile, Bruin was attacked on all sides by the dogs, and some hunters having arrived on the scene, the bear was speedily despatched, and the gentleman rescued from his perilous position.

The New Year.

'THE king is dead! Long live the king! How oft those words renowned Come back to me when joy-bells ring

With sweet and cheering sound!
Those bells that say, 'A Year is dead
Another's king to-day

Aye, king, ere yet the echoing chime
Of midnight dies away!

And though the wintry winds oft sing
The dead king's funeral song,
We know that round the new-born king
Spring flowers will bloom ere long!
Then be thy sorrows what they may,

Let hope dispel each fear,
When all who meet thee, smiling, say,

'A happy, bright New Year!'

The Monkey and the Sugar.

A GENTLEMAN in India once gave a tame monkey a lump of sugar inside a corked bottle. The monkey was of an inquiring mind, and it nearly killed it. Sometimes in an impulse of disgust it would throw the bottle away, out of its own reach. and then be distracted until it was given back to it. At others it would sit with a countenance of the most intense dejection, contemplating the bottled sugar, and then, as if pulling itself together for another effort at solution, would sternly take up the problem afresh and gaze into it. It would tilt it up one way and try to drink the sugar out of the neck, and then, suddenly reversing it try to catch it as it fell out at the bottom.

Under the impression that it could capture it by a surprise, it kept rasping its teeth against the glass in futile bites, and warming to the pursuit of the revolving lump used to tie itself into regular knots around the bottle. Fits of the most ludicrous melancholy would alternate with spasms of delight as a new idea seemed to suggest itself, followed by a fresh series of experiments.

Nothing availed, however, until one day a light was shed upon the problem by a jar of olives falling from the table with a crash, and the fruit rolling about in all directions. His monkeyship contemplated the catastrophe and reasoned upon it with the intelligence of a Humboldt. Lifting the bottle high in his claws, he brought it down upon the floor with a tremendous noise, smashing the glass into fragments, after which he calmly transferred the sugar to his mouth, and munched it with much satisfaction.

The Christmas Party.

OUR youngsters had a happy time of it, I can assure you. They were just like a lot of young lambs on a bright May morning, sporting among the grass and flowers. And it was all the pleasanter to behold their happiness, as the country all round was covered with snow and bound hard with frost. They were all, both boys and girls, nicely dressed, not in a showy way, but with good taste. It would have done your heart good to see the dear creatures. Their faces beamed with the sweet joy of childhood, and their bell-like voices frequently burst into peals of laughter. Soon after coming they sat down to tea, and as the frosty air through which they had

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come had given them a keen appetite, they certainly did justice to the good things provided. The tea was substantial, and yet tasty; there were few sweet-meats or pastries; but there was abundance of the buns and cakes that boys and girls like, and which, while sweet to the taste, are not likely to hurt the health.

When tea had got fairly over, the games began, and were continued vigorously for several hours. Nobody of good sense could have found fault with the games. They were perfectly simple and innocent, and suited to the tastes of children. None of them seemed to afford so much amusement as the old English game of Blind Man's Buff, a game which is no more likely to go out of fashion than the institution of Punch and Judy. And one can't help noticing that, although elderly people don't play at this game themselves, they are vastly delighted to see youngsters engaged in it.

A little before parting time, Mr. Templeton, the minister, called, and I was glad to find the youngsters thronging round him and clinging to him as if he had been their elder brother. Evidently he had won their hearts. He made himself quite at home with them, told them an amusing story, and then, in a very pleasant way, gave them a few words of good advice before taking his leave.

The time had now come for the party to break up, and after bonnets and caps and mufflers and shawls had been appropriated and adjusted, the boys and girls tripped off to their several homes, delighted with the entertainment they had received, and overflowing with cheery talk to one another.

LEARN to say to all invitations to wrong-doing, from whatever source they come, 'No, I thank you,' and in your old age you will be thankful for this advice.

'I'LL TURN OVER A NEW LEAF.'-It is all very well to say that you will 'turn over a new leaf.' But let me ask, What about the past black leaves of guilt? The school-boy, after spilling the ink on the page of his copybook, turns over a new leaf, resolving that in the future he will be more careful; but 'turning over a new leaf' does not remove the blotted one, and soon the teacher's eye detects the blots, and he puuishes him for his carelessness. Reader, turning over a new leaf' won't do for you. You must become a new creature in Christ Jesus.