decide for himself whether he would go with his father, or stay at home with his mother and sisters.

Mr. Hardy intended to leave home on Monday; and Mrs. Hardy said that if George was to go with him, she should like to know two or three days before, that she might put up his clothes, and other things, ready for him, so as not to have anything of that kind to take up her time on Sunday.

So when Friday came, she said, "Now, George, shall I put your clothes into the carpet-bag with your father's?"

And George said that if his mamma pleased he should like to go, and that she might put up his clothes ready for the journey.

Then his mother put his clothes into the bag, and got ready a cloak for him to travel in. When this was done, George began to talk to his mother and sisters of what he hoped he should see while he was away from them, and promised that he would remember everything that he saw, and tell them when he returned home. He said, too, that he would write some letters to his sisters, and he would ask his father to write to them also. And he hoped that his mother would write very often to him while he was away from her. His mother said that she would do so as often as she could, and that she hoped the postman would bring her a letter every day. All this put George in such good spirits, that

he wished the next day would be Monday, for he wanted very much to see his grandfather and grandmother, who so often sent kind messages to him.

But George and his father did not begin their journey when Monday came. I will tell you why they did not.

Mr. Hardy was fond of his children, and used often to play with them; and the day after George had said he should like to go with his father, they were all having a good game together-George, Emma, Ruth, and their father. While they were at play, one of the little girls, by accident, pushed something which she had in her hand, into her father's face, so as very much to hurt one of his eyes. He was forced to leave off playing, and to bathe his eye with water, to take away the pain. And the pain did partly go away, so that when Mr. Hardy went into his own room, he was able to sit down to write some letters and other things which he wished to do before he left home. He was writing all day; and before he had done, he had almost forgotten that his eye had been hurt. But, when night came, both his eyes began to look very red, and to feel very sore indeed. He bathed them again with water; but, instead of getting better, they became a great deal worse, until he could not open them. He was obliged to sit quite still, and keep his eyes close shut, the pain was so great.

The little girl was very sorry that she had hurt her father, and she kissed his shut eyes again and again; but kissing could not take away the pain. Her brother and sister were sorry too; and they all hoped that their father's eyes would be well to-morrow.

But when morning came, Mr. Hardy was worse instead of better, and a doctor was sent for, who said that it would be two or three days before Mr. Hardy would be able to take a journey; and, all that day, he was obliged to keep in bed and in the dark. On Monday he was better, and able to open his eyes a little.

On Tuesday, the swelling and pain were quite gone; and on Wednesday morning, Mr. Hardy was able to travel.

Little George bore this delay as well as he was able, and tried to be useful to his mother while his father was unwell. This pleased his parents much better than if he had been fretful about the delay; and before he and his sister Emma went to bed on Tuesday evening, their father told them the three following true stories.

CHAPTER III.

MR. HARDY'S THREE TRUE STORIES.

Story the first.-ABOUT thirty years ago, a sad accident happened on the river Medway, near a large town in Kent. The river Medway is close by the town, and there is a bridge over the river. At the time I am speaking of, this bridge was being repaired or mended.

There was at this time, in the town, a boarding-school for young ladies; and one fine half-holiday, the young ladies of this school were taken, by their governess, in a boat upon the water. This was a treat which they had been promised for a long time, and you may be sure they were glad when the time came for them to enjoy it. The governess took them to the water-side, where a large boat was provided by some gentlemen who were to be of the party. It must have been a large boat to hold them all, for there were, I think, fifteen or sixteen in the party.

They were soon on this river, and a very happy party they were. I dare say they chatted, and laughed, and joked, as any other young folks would do while enjoying themselves. But if they did talk and laugh and joke, they had not, I trust, forgotten their

Creator in the days of their youth. Perhaps many of them had found that

"Religion never was designed

To make our pleasures less."

And indeed I do think it was so; for presently they began to sing sweet and lively hymns of praise to God their Saviour.

Thus they went on singing as the boat was being gently rowed down the river. Ah! they little knew how soon their songs on earth would cease! But while they were singing, they came to the bridge, which I told you was being repaired. As the boat came near the bridge, some persons who were on it heard the words which they were singing. This was one of the verses,

"The hour is near, consigned to death;

I own the just decree;

Saviour! with my last parting breath,
I'll cry, remember me.

It may be that this was the last verse they sang, as they were passing under the bridge; for the boat struck against some timbers which were in the water, and, in almost the same instant, turned over, or sunk, and all that were in it were thrown into the water.

Directly this sad accident happened, the people who were on the bridge, and near the river, tried to save the poor young ladies and their companions from drowning; but alas! the water was deep and the stream rapid, and