her mild blue eyes upon the interrogator, while a wreath of the heart's warm sunshine played softly about her lips. Then, without replying, she resumed her employment.

"O, dear!" sighed Mary, again.

"Now do exert yourself, my dear," said Mrs. Page, in a persuasive tone of voice. "Dress yourself and take a

walk."

"Where shall I go?"

"Make a call somewhere."

"I made a dozen or more calls yesterday. Used up all my acquaintances, in fact, worth calling upon."

"Walk out and take fresh air then."

"Walk for nothing? O dear, no! That's worse than staying in the house; particularly as an hour must be spent, beforehand in dressing.-Now do, Alice, stop that everlasting, stitch, stitch, stitching!" said the young lady, more petulently than when she first addressed her. "You make me so nervous that I can scarcely contain myself. What are you doing?

Again the young girl raised her head, and fixed her gentle eyes on Mary Page. For a few moments she looked at her, calmly, yet with reproof in glances. Then gathering her work in her hands, she arose, and was about leaving the room, when the former interrupted her, saying

"Just tell me what you are so wonderfully busy about, Alice? Here, for some days, you have been doing nothing but stitch, stitch. For a young lady who has a handsome income of two or three thousand dollars a year, this is robbing the poor seamstress. What wonderful fit of economy has come over you?"

Alice, whose hand was on the door, paused to hear what Mary had to say. Then approaching her, she bent over and whispered something in her ear, to which the young lady replied

"No-it's too much trouble. I don't like moving." "But, I want you. Come! I've something particular to say."

66

Say it here. Ma won't listen if it's any secret." "Not a word of it until you are in my room," said Alice, firmly.

There was a decision about her tone and manner that had its effect upon Mary, who slowly raised herself up from her reclining position, saying as she did so—

"You are a provoking chit, Alice.”

The two girls presently left the apartment together, and ascended to the room of Alice. As soon as they were alone, the latter said:

"Did you ever see a sweeter babe than Mrs. Martin's?" "Isn't it a darling?" instantly replied Mary, a light glancing over her face, and sparkling in her eyes. The woman's heart in her felt instantly the ingenuous appeal of the cousin for that was the relationship borne by the young ladies to each other.

"Indeed it is," quietly returned Alice.

"Do you know," said Mary, with animation, "that I begged Mrs. Martin to lend me the dear little thing for an hour or two? I declare! if she'd only say yes, if I wouldn't have brought it home in my arms."

Alice smiled at her cousin's suddenly awakened enthusiasm.

"I know where there is just such as sweet a baby as Mrs. Martin's; and what is more, its mother will let you bring it home, if you feel at all inclined to do so."

"Do you!" And Mary struck her hands together in expression of her delight, "and pray, where is it?" "Not half a square from here."

"Whose baby is it?”

"Do you remember Maggy Green, who used to sew for your mother two or three years ago?"

"Yes."

"And how she got married and went to live in New Jersey."

"Yes."

"Well, Maggy's husband died three or four months ago, and she has come back again to the city."

"And is living near us?"

"Yes. She is at the house of a friend, who has kindly given her a home until she is able to get one for herself." “And Maggy has the dear little baby of which you are speaking."

"Yes."

"Is it sweet and clean?" asked Mary, a slight shade passing over her amiable face. "So many of these poor babies are neglected by their mothers, and kept in such a condition that one can't bear to look at, much less touch them. A dirty baby!-Oh, dear! Save me from such an infliction."

"It will be your fault if Maggy's baby isn't always as nice as a new pin," said Alice. "Now let me show you what I have been doing."

And Alice opened a drawer, and lifted therefrom two neatly-made baby frocks, one with a blue sprig. There was also a white flannel petticoat, a snowy linen shirt, and a pair of white worsted socks, with blue edges and ties. "What beauties!" exclaimed Mary. “And are these for Maggy's baby?"

"Yes."

"And did you make them?"

"Yes; I have just finished a white apron, the 'stitch, stitching' of which annoyed you so much just now."

"Well, you are a queer one, Alice! And you've been working these two or three days for Maggy's baby? Why didn't you ask me to help you?"

"You ? "

"Yes, me.

"Oh, I've heard you say, dozens of times, that you had no taste for things useful."

"I say a great many things when I'm tired of myself and every body around me. But when are you going to see Maggy and her baby?"

"This morning,"

"I'll go with you," said Mary, with animation. Already a beautiful glow had come to her cheeks that were before pale; her eyes were full of life, and every movement evinced the rapid flow of animal spirit.

"I shall be most happy to have your company," replied

Alice.

"I'll get myself ready in a twinkling." And Mary glided from the room. In a much shorter time than it usually took Mary to dress herself, she was ready to accompany her cousin, and chatting together, with much animation, they left the house.

We will accompany the young ladies to the humble abode of Maggy Green, where they betook themselves, and where half an hour was spent in washing and dressing the baby. A lovely babe it was, with eyes as blue as the bending heavens, and cheeks as fair and beautiful as a newly opening flower.

Daily, from that time, there was, in the house of Mrs. Page, an object that won upon her active love; for Maggy was taken back into the family, and her baby became the special care of Alice and her cousin, not half so frequently did the latter now complain of being a burden to herself; for there was always something that love inspired her to do for the little stranger-Maggy's baby; and this she learned that only in coming out of ourselves, and living for others, is it possible to find true enjoyment in life.-Ladies' Wreath.

A GENERAL EPISTLE.

THE Old Year is dying;-another month, and then it will have passed away. But shall the last month of the year be a blank with you, fellow Sabbath-school labourers? It cannot ! To work then, redeeming the time! To work,-for the night cometh when the pulse of time shall cease, and the graves' lethargy shall hush the body into dust! In commerce we see intense activity. In science and literature it is there also Energy fires the mind, that guides the hand that clothes humanity, or tunnels the hills, or inundates the world with literature from the prolific press.

Sabbath Scholars, you have a debt to discharge, you have a work to perform. Honesty, philanthropy, and Christianity demand it. The Sabbath-school has been the guardian of

your virtue. There your intellect was awakened, your mind developed, your heart touched, your life reformed. If this be true you Do owe something to the church, whose nursery is the Sabbath-school. What shall we do? Remember our Missions. Think of Hamburg, Wisconsin, Jamaica. Sympathize with Australia, and sympathize practically. Our Home Mission is a most important one, and requires a simultaneous, energetic effort, to keep the wheels in motion.

To you who are scholars in those circuits which require Connexional support, a tenfold duty rests on you. Your schools may be connected with small churches, but you have it in your power to increase their numbers, deepen the tone of piety, and to increase their pecuniary resources; startle into action the energies of slumbering churches, and its influence shall vibrate through the Connexion. The main-spring of such a movement is the "will."

"I will!" can move a world! It brought Hannibal to the walls of Rome-It robed Cæsar in the imperial purple-It made half the world cry for homage, "There is one God and Mahomet is his prophet "-It placed Cromwell on a throne of kings-and carried Napoleon across the Alps. It found Luther at Worms-and Cortes, at Mexico, with trembling Montezuma at his feet. Sabbath Scholars of the Association, let "WE WILL!" burst forth in one tumultuous shout, and our Missions shall rejoice. Last year the spark was fanned into a flame, let this be a volcanic action, moving heaven and earth. Determined youth can trample with elastic feet on a thousand hindrances, and cry It can be done! This festive Christmas, then, resolve to raise a large sum for the Missionary cause. Apply for Collecting Cards! ply with diligence and rely on the blessing of God.

WM. HENRY Rinder.

ADVICE TO THE YOUNG.

THE soft breezes of celestial innocence are passing over you, seize the auspicious season, and hoist every sail to catch the breath of heaven. Tremble at the thought of losing your