I do?'

He then remembered that a little girl whom he knew, and who had learned to read, lived in the same street; so he took his little piece of newspaper, and went to ask her to teach him to read.

'What will you give me if I do?' she said, 'for it will take a long time.'

Little Eugene considered for a while, but could not think of anything. At last he said, "Though I have to gather rags, and then sort them, still I should have some little time left; perhaps I could help you in your work.'

The bargain was soon made, and at the end of some weeks he could read every word on his piece of newspaper; but he did not understand much of it, for it was torn, so the words were unconnected. However, he was very fond of it, because he had learned to read from it.

One day as he was reading it over and over again, the same beautiful carriage that he had seen before, again drove through the street. Eugene looked for the little boy, and great was his joy to see him there smiling at the door; but imagine, if you can, his delight when he saw him speak to his mother, and then threw him a little book with a pretty blue cover! Eugene almost forgot to thank him for it, he was in such a hurry to seize his treasure. Its name was 'Come to Jesus, the Friend of Sinners.' It was the story of a little boy who, like Eugene, had been very unhappy, but who had found a kind and powerful Friend to whom he could tell everything, and who helped him in all his troubles. At first Eugene could neither read nor understand it all, so he ran with it to his little teacher, who was hardly less glad than he was to have something new to read. They studied it together; but for a long time could not make out the meaning of the words, or understand that this Friend, who was called Jesus, though they could not see Him, yet was truly a friend to all those who believe in Him.

They were never weary of talking about Him; and that faithful Friend whom they loved already, without

knowing who He was, soon made himself known to them. One day a man with a large bale of goods stopped in the street where Eugene and his little teacher were reading, for the hundredth time, their dear little book. What had he in his bale? Books! He was a colporteur. Eugene went to him; and, when he offered him a New Testament for fifty centimes, large tears rolled down poor Eugene's cheeks, for he had no money; he could not buy it. 'Why are you crying, my little boy?' said the man. 'Oh, sir, please tell me what is this book about?'

It is about the Lord Jesus Christ,' he said.

'What? about the Friend of the little boy who, like me, had no friends? I wish I knew Him. I must know Him. I so want a friend who will always stay with me; but I have no money or anything. What can I do ?'

'My little boy, tell me your name, and I will see what I can do.'

He then went away, and Eugene began to cry, 'He has taken away my Friend. I do so want a friend. Oh! what shall I do?'

The Lord Jesus is near all those who seek Him, who really wish to find Him, and He did not forget little Eugene. The colporteur spoke to a kind gentleman about him, and he sent Eugene a New Testament. He also inquired about him, and found he was a good boy, and very intelligent. He sent him to school; and now Eugene himself is a colporteur. He did not forget the little girl who taught him to read. He gave her books, and told her and her neighbours about the Lord Jesus,that precious Friend he had found: how He so loved them, notwithstanding all their sins, that He died to save them; and that He will receive all those who come to Him and believe in Him, for He has said, 'Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest ;' and 'Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.' 'For God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.'

A.

HORACE HAZELWOOD;

·

OR,

LITTLE THINGS.

BY ROBERT HOPE MONCRIEFF,

AUTHOR OF OUDENDALE,' 'STORIES FOR BOYS,' 'ARTHUR FORTESCUE,' • 'THE LYCEE BOYS,' ETC.

CHAPTER X.-TROUBLES.

EXT morning, before the boys went to school, Rawlett came up to Horace and offered him some raisins.

'No, thanks,' said Horace. 'I don't like raisins. Where did you get them ?'

'I took them out of the diningroom cupboard,' said Rawlett with a grin. The door is unlocked, and there's no one in the room. I say, Horace, come on and let's have another try at it. I saw a barrel of splendid apples and some biscuits. We'll need to be quick though, for Mary will be coming to clear away the breakfast things in about five minutes.'

'No, I'd rather not. I want to go to school,' said Horace, making off.

'Won't you? Then I will, at all events;' and Rawlett cautiously made his way back to the dining-room, quite unaware that this conversation had been overheard by Mr Dunning through the open drawing-room door.

When Horace arrived at the Academy, he ran to put away his books in the second classroom, intending to have a game at hales before the bell rung. But he was very much disconcerted when a group of boys who were standing at the door greeted him with