Once more they knelt in prayer, but Maggie's grief was less bitter now, for she joined heartily while her father told Jesus of her sin and asked Him to forgive it.

I must not make my story longer. You will be glad to hear, however, that Lulie did not die; and you can fancy, I am sure, how warm and long was Maggie's kiss when she was first allowed to see him after his illness. And ever since, when tempted to be passionate and proud, she has remembered the lesson

of those dreary weeks, and tried to forgive, even as she hopes that God, for Christ's sake, has forgiven her.

ANGRY WORDS-Oh, do not speak them,
Little children, in your play!
For the holy angels hear them,-
God Himself is near alway.

Strive to check the rising temper,
Keep the selfish wishes down;
Do not let your little troubles
Call up such an angry frown.

And, if others speak in anger,
Try to whisper, soft and low,

'Holy Jesus, by Thy Spirit,
Make me meek and patient now.'

But if ever, in your playing,

Strife and quarrel should arise,
Do not let the golden sunlight
Fade and die in western skies,

Till the kiss of sweet forgiveness,
And the small hands clasped in love,
When ye kneel to say, 'Our Father,'
Bring His blessing from above.

RAGGED SCHOOL REMINISCENCES.

NO. II.

AVING taken you into the interior of a Ragged School on a Sunday evening, I will now proceed to give some account of the work carried on.

The superintendent is walking up and down the middle of the room, seeing that all is going on well. The children are ranged round their teachers, either listening to their explanations, or reading or reciting their hymns and portions of Scripture, the hum arising from so many subdued voices having a very curious effect. Up in the gallery about thirty mothers, similarly engaged, are assembled, but they are quite hidden by a green curtain, and you would scarcely know they were there. Being only an occasional teacher, though a constant visitor, I was always ready to take a

class, of either boys or girls, who could read, but whose regular instructor might be absent.

Now you must not think, that because these children are ignorant, they are also stupid. Far from it; they are in general very sharp; and being obliged to shift for themselves from their earliest years, they acquire a certain degree of cleverness, of which children born under other circumstances have no need. I have, however, seen many, who, from the cruelty of their parents, combined with want and neglect, were almost in a state of idiocy.

The day schools are taught by regular paid teachers. If the school is large, there are both a master and one or sometimes two mistresses; but the Sabbath and weekevening classes are always taught by voluntary teachers.

Most of the children are easily taught, and learn to read in a wonderfully short space of time, considering how irregular their attendance is. If they have a home, they are often kept away to mind the baby (though very little themselves), while mother goes out washing, or the bigger girls go to help a neighbour; for you have no idea how kind the poor are to each other. I often think richer people might take a lesson from them, in what they will sacrifice for others.

Although I was surprised at the clever answers often given by the children, yet one of the greatest difficulties a teacher had to encounter, was in trying to make the commonest things of nature plain to children who had never seen a green field in their lives. They might have seen trees in a churchyard, but a mountain or hill was quite beyond their comprehension. They knew no other landscape than the dismal court in which they dwelt, and had no other idea of a stream than the gutter running through it. They could not possibly imagine what was meant by the country. Since those days, however, a great change has taken place; and by means of the excursions, of which I hope to give you some account, every child, at least once a year, has the happiness of spending a day out of London.

I dare say you know that in England many children of the lower classes (and some of the better classes too) have a habit of dropping h, where it ought to be sounded, and putting it in where it has no business to be; making v into w, and adding an r to words ending with vowels. These errors, as you may suppose, are very common with the children at the Ragged Schools.

I well remember, one evening, having a class of big girls. We took for our lesson the fifth chapter of Matthew. The first girl began to read, 'And seeing the multitudes, He went up into a mountain.' I stopped her, and asked if any of them knew what a mountain was. There was a dead pause. At last one of them rose up, and, holding out her finger, said, 'I know, teacher, what it is like.' 'Well?' I said. 'It is like a tall tree.' From this, you may be sure it was some time before I could give them even a faint idea of a mountain. We then proceeded, stopping occasionally to inquire if they understood the chapter. I had no difficulty in anything that was not connected with the country. When we got to the fourteenth verse, 'Ye are the light of the world,' etc., the girl who was reading, in spite of all I could do, would have it, 'A city set on an 'ill cannot be 'id. I asked, 'Have any of you ever seen a hill?' At once every finger was pointed, as a sign that they had. I naturally wondered that they, who had no idea of a 'mountain,' should be so familiar with a 'hill,' so asked them what hill they had seen. They all at once cried out, "'Olborn 'il' (Holborn Hill), which, I may tell those of my little readers who have not yet visited the great city of London, is a very busy street in the heart of the city, with a considerable ascent. So I had nearly as much difficulty in making a 'hill' intelligible to them as I had before wth a 'mountain.'

The hour of eight approaching, the bell is rung, the books are collected by the best scholars, and carried to the cupboards. A short address is delivered, containing some interesting anecdote; a hymn sung-oh, so sweetly i

-for in most schools the children are fond of singing, and sing well; and there are nice selections of hymns for the use of these schools. Then the benediction is pronounced, and the school dismissed, some of the boys to sleep in the dormitory below, and the rest to such homes as they had the poor little girls I always felt most for.

Once more, my dear young readers, let me ask you, can you sufficiently thank your heavenly Father for giving you happy homes? Never forget that it is only God's goodness which makes you to differ from these poor children.

In my next I will tell you of an evening class of boys which I taught, and you will perhaps be surprised to hear that I preferred them to the girls. G. J.

SLY MR FOX AND THE WILFUL TURKEY.

T was a very fine evening in harvest-time; the Holly-tree Farm was in all its glory, and the holly-trees by the gate were beginning to give promise of an unusual quantity of berries. The turkeys had been out all day in the fields; but now it was high time for them to be moving towards home. So thought old Mrs Turkey, as she flapped her wings, and called aloud to her young family: 'Come, come, my dears,' said she, it is getting very late, the sun is about setting, the rooks have gone to rest a long time ago, and we have been already out much longer than we ought to be. There, I declare I hear Betty, the