5

HERE'S a robins' nest in the apple tree, down in the most distant corner of the orchard," said Ellie Lowerre, at the breakfast-table. “Now, I do hope that none of the boys will find it out, for I want the darling birdies to live there in peace."

"I am very sure,” said her mother, "that none of my boys ever molest the innocent birds. Indeed, Ellie dear, I regret that you should suggest such a thing to your little brothers."

Ellie said no more, but she remembered that in former summers the robins had not been permitted to enjoy their leafy home without disturbance, and one boy, whom she regarded as the transgressor, was present that morning. It might have been more prudent not to have mentioned the birds at all, for Harry Lawton, her cousin, while he was full of mischief, was not so keen-sighted and enterprising as her brothers Will and Fred. Ellie's anxiety, however, had made her speak. Like herself, Fred and Will were tender-hearted towards all God's creatures, but Harry was thoughtless and cruel. He had early been left an orphan, and had not received so good a training as the others, and he now needed a severe lesson to teach him to keep the law of kindness. He set off, soon after hearing Ellie's words, to find the robins' nest, and before long he had climbed the tree, and discovered it cunningly set in a crotch. He found four little yellow mouths wide open and gaping for food, and he knew that the parents had gone in search of it, and, of course, would soon return. Hurriedly he seized the fledgelings, and crowded them into his hat, and then began to descend the tree; but in his haste he missed his footing, fell to the ground, and was found there an hour afterwards, groaning with the pain of a broken leg. Ellie, who nursed him through his helplessness, had the pleasure of seeing a real change in his disposition and true repentance. He rose from his couch a

better and kinder boy. We hope that his misfortune may be a warning to others, who may think that such an accident would never happen to them. Doubtless Harry thought so too.

One of the poor birdies was killed by its fall, but the hat fortunately lodged in a limb only a little way down, and the rest were saved. Birds do so much to make our summers bright and happy, their. songs are so sweet, and their motions so graceful, that we ought to win them to stay near us, instead of driving them away by cruelty. M. E. S.

THE TRUE LITTLE ONES. "Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones. "-MATTHEW xviii. Io.

"For who hath despised the day of small things?" ZECHARIAH iv. 10. "THE little ones" are such as fear Their prayers the Saviour will not hear; Yet love His people, prize His ways, And sometimes strive to lisp His praise. "The little ones" are those who crave A part in Him who died to save; They long to hear the Saviour speak, And bid them His dear face to seek. "The little ones" are those who sigh, And dread lest they in sin should die ; Eternity they ponder well,

They think of heaven and think of hell.
"The little ones" do not despise
The Saviour, but with longing eyes
They look to Him their souls to save
From sin, from wrath, death and the grave.
"The little ones" give earnest heed
That they the narrow way may speed;
They mark what holy Scripture saith,
And know the broad way leads to death.
"The little ones" may travel slow,
But still with safety onward go;
Fear not-your prayers and earnest sighs
The Saviour never will despise.

ALFRED.

T is no good, John; religion is all very well in its place, but it don't do for the workshop; and you'd better make up your mind to leave it outside, if you want to get on with the men."

But John shook his head. "I can't do that," he said. "I don't want to force my religion upon anybody else, or preach at them, as you call it; but it would not be religion at all if it did not rule my every-day life in the workshop as well as at home."

John Taylor had recently come to live in the village, but it was already known that he regularly attended God's house, and brought up his family differently from many others, and his brother had received a hint from their fellow-workmen that his religion must stop there. If Taylor worked with them he must do as they did, whatever it might be.

66 They that live at Rome must do as Rome does," said his brother," and you'll find it out before you've been at the factory long."

John smiled. "We shall see," he said. He had been working a week at the factory, and nothing unpleasant had arisen beyond a little banter, because he would not drink and swear, and a little ridicule about being so strict.

The nickname, "Methodist Jack," he had taken very quietly, and answered pleasantly enough; and he thought, his principles being known, the matter would end there, until his brother called to say the men were determined not to have his religion brought into the workshop -a determination he could not understand just now, but which he found out a few days afterwards.

There was a press of work at the factory. A large order had come in, and was to be completed in a short time, and every minute was precious. The men knew this, and the foreman overlooking them would often do a little job himself

to speed the work, although he was not expected to do more than overlook the other workmen. One day, however, he was called away to another part of the factory; and the moment he was gone every man, except John Taylor, laid down his tools and began laughing and chatting with each other. John, however, kept on steadily with his work of planing, and the others seeing it, one of them called out, "Here, stop that now; we're all in for a minute's chat, and you must leave off, if you don't choose to talk to such sinners as we are."

John looked up without removing his hands from the board. "But I don't choose to leave off," he said; "I prefer going on with the work."

"But we don't choose that you should go on; we like things square all round." "So do I," said John, "and that's why I don't choose to rob the master." "Rob the master!" exclaimed several voices together.

"Yes, it is a robbery, certainly, if you waste the time he pays you to employ for him," said John, and he recommenced his planing.

66

Here, stop a bit, old fellow; just explain what you mean," said one, laying his hand on his arm. But at this moment the foreman was heard approaching, and the tools were picked up and all the work recommenced, so that the subject was dropped for that day.

The next morning the foreman again had to go to the counting-house, and again the tools were thrown down, and this time the chisel that John was using was knocked out of his hand, while one of them angrily demanded, "What do you mean by saying we rob the master? I never wronged anybody of a penny in my life."

"Perhaps not," said John, quietly; "but what else can you call it but robbery when you waste the master's time?"

Oh, there, don't let's have any quarrelling," put in another. "Look here, Taylor, you ain't a bad sort of chap, Í know, and you're open to reason, and will do as the rest do when you know it is the rule of the shop. You ain't got used to this place yet, or you'd know we're pretty often on the drive like this, and so, when we get the chance, we have a rest to make up for it."

"I don't see that we're driven much," said John; "all that they require is, that we should keep on steadily with our work. But I can't discuss this now," he said, picking up his chisel; "we'll talk it over afterwards," he added.

"No, we won't, though; we'll have it out now," said the first speaker. "As you don't seem inclined to conform to the rules of the shop, give us your reason." John looked up: No, I will not conform to this rule," he said, "for it is not right, just, or honest.”

Again the timely approach of the foreman put a stop to any further dispute, but before the day was over he had to leave them again, and then down went the tools as usual; and one of them said, in a mocking tone, "Now then, Methodist Jack, we're ready for the rest of your sermon."

66

"I have not got a sermon to preach," said John, without pausing in his work. Oh, that's all nonsense! Methodists always have a sermon ready at the end of their tongue. You left off at some things not being right, just, and honest. Go on."

"If you want to hear more of my opinion about such things I will tell you afterwards; but it would be just as wrong of me to waste the master's time preaching, as you call it, as it is for you to be dawdling," said John.

"Thank you. So that's your religion, is it?" exclaimed another. "Well, I can tell you this, if you want to keep your place inside this factory you'll have to leave your religion outside."

"I told you how it would be," said his brother, when he heard of this occur

7

"I hope it won't come to that," said John; "the worst is over now. They know my principles, and will leave me alone for the future."

In this, however, John was mistaken. His conduct was a reproach to them, and they resolved to force him into compliance with their practices.

The next time the foreman left them John was allowed to keep on with his work; but, when he took up his plane, which was lying near, he found all the edge had been taken off it, and some time was wasted in putting it right. He did not know how the mischief had been done, and could only say it was all right a few minutes before, when the foreman complained of the loss of time.

were

By degrees this came to be quite a common thing. Taylor's tools always out of order, and he could never account for it, although he had a keen suspicion who were the authors of the mischief, so had the foreman, and by it he discovered that his most steady and trusty workman was in ill odour with the rest. The loss of time occasioned by the blunted tools soon came to be considerable, and, as the easiest way of getting rid of a disagreeable difficulty, John was discharged.

This happened when his third little girl was taken with the scarlet fever, and poor John needed all the strength and comfort of religion to support him unde the trial. He was suffering wrongfully, and it needed grace to enable him to bear it patiently, when he looked at his wife's worn face, and saw her look of dismay when he placed his wages in her hand and told her what had happened. His brother came in soon afterwards, and John expected a torrent of reproaches; but, to his surprise, the young man said, "Well, John, you've done it now; your religion's cost you a good situation. But it's worth it, I suppose," he added, with a sigh.

"Yes, that it is," said John, in some surprise at his brother's seriousness. "I've lost my work, but nothing can take from me the promises God has given me in His Son Christ Jesus."

"But promises won't feed the children, and buy them medicine," said the young

man.

"But God's will," said John. "His promises are promissory notes that always stand good: 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.' All things shall work together for good to them that love God.'"

"Well, religion is a reality to you, I know. I never believed in it before ;" and with a hearty pressure of the hand he went out, leaving John mute with surprise.

The next morning, to his astonishment, he found his brother near the gate waiting to accompany him to church.

"You're in the right, John," he said, as they were walking back again and discussing the sermon. "I never thought much of religion before, but, God helping me, I'll seek Him now, and I won't forget Him in the workshop either."

The joy this change in his brother gave poor John made him almost forget his present trial, until Monday came and he saw his fellow-workmen pass to the factory, and thought what days of sadness were before them, as well as sickness, owing to their resources being suddenly cut off. There was no other work to be had in the neighbourhood, he knew, and so he resolved to go to a distance and look for employment, and started the same day to walk to a town some miles off. Meanwhile the men had heard that Taylor had been discharged through their mischief; but the news was anything but pleasant to them. He was civil and obliging, willing to do anybody a kindness, and more than one had been helped by him in a difficulty, so that they were ready to resent the foreman's compliance with their wishes; and his unaccountable absence this morning gave them the opportunity of sending a petition to the master that Taylor might be recalled to his post.

The circumstances that led to his dismissal were inquired into, and that evening his brother followed him to the town with the news that he was to return to the factory, not to his former post, but to succeed the foreman, who had himself been summarily dismissed. His fellow-workmen, instead of being jealous of his elevation, heartily congratulated him on it, saying he would make a good master, because he had been a faithful, honest workman, who was not afraid to bring the practices of his religion even into the workshop.

JOY OF A RETURNED EXILE. DAVID CORRIE was a Scotch boy, trained in the Covenanters' faith, and early taught both to say the Catechism and sing the Psalms. But David had a restless spirit, and, as he grew to manhood, he could not abide at home. He shipped as a sailor, and for years had his will of wandering, while the wilder license of sea life gradually wore out the impressions of his earlier days. But a sudden sorrow shut him up to reflection. His ship fell into the clutches of the Algerines, and he was carried in chains to Oran, and sold as a slave. This affliction, so terrible to his restless nature, almost crushed him, but the lessons of his youth returned, and became his only comfort. Time passed, but he suffered in patience, and every day when his task was done and he lay in his guarded quarters, he thought over the sacred texts he had learned in his boyhood, and "sang the Lord's songs in a strange land." One night, as an English man-of-war lay in the harbour off the shore where David was confined, some sailors heard in the distance the strains of the Old Hundredth stealing over the sea. The generous tars knew a British subject was in captivity. They manned a boat, and with one bold stroke rescued the prisoner. David re

turned home to find his mother still living, and, with an overflowing heart, through all his life he sang the old refrain, "Be Thou, O God, exalted high."

"Them that honour Me I will honour."

-I SAMUEL ii. 30.

HE following interesting anecdote has been gathered up, and now forwarded for insertion in the LITTLE GLEANER, with the hope that it may serve as an elucidation of the above divine declaration, and also prove an encouragement to many young readers to carefully regard the Lord's day, whatever temptation may be offered to the contrary.

In the city of Bath, during the last century, lived a barber who made a practice of following his ordinary occupation on the Lord's day. As he was pursuing his morning's employment, he happened to look into a place of worship, just as the minister was giving out his text, "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy" (Ex. xx. 8). He listened long enough to be convinced that he was constantly breaking the laws of God and man by shaving and dressing his customers on Sunday. He became uneasy, and went with a heavy heart to his Sunday task. At length he took courage, and opened his mind to the minister, who advised him to give up Sunday dressing and worship God. He replied, beggary would be the consequence; he had a flourishing trade, but it would almost all be lost. At length, after many a sleepless night, spent in weeping and praying, he was determined to cast all his care upon God, as the more he reflected, the more his duty became apparent. Following the dictates of his own conscience, he discontinued Sunday dressing, went constantly and early to the public services of religion, and found that peace of God which the world can neither give nor take away. The consequences he foresaw actually followed. His genteel customers left him, as he was nick-named a Puritan or Methodist. He was obliged to give up his fashionable shop, and in the course of years became so reduced as to take a

cellar under the old market-house, and shave the common people.

One Saturday evening, between light and dark, a stranger from one of the coaches, asking for a barber, was directed by the ostler to the cellar opposite. Coming in hastily, he requested to be shaved quickly, while they changed horses, " as he did not like to violate the Sabbath." This was touching the barber on a tender chord. He burst into tears, and asked the stranger to lend him a halfpenny to buy him a candle, as it was not light enough to shave him with safety. He did so, revolving in his mind the extreme poverty to which the poor man must be reduced.

When shaved, he said, "There must be something extraordinary in your history, which I have not now time to hear. Here

is half-a-crown for you. When I return, I will call and investigate your case. What is your name?"

"William Reed," said the astonished barber.

66

'William Reed!" echoed the stranger; "William Reed! By your dialect you are from the west?"

"Yes, sir, from Kingston, near Taunton."

"William Reed, from Kingston, near Taunton? What was your father's name?" "Thomas."

"Had he any brother?"

"Yes, sir; one, after whom I was named; but he went to the Indies, and, as we never heard from him, we suppose him to be dead."

"Come along, follow me," said the stranger. "I am going to see a person who says his name is William Reed, of Kingston, near Taunton; come and confront him. If you prove to be indeed him whom you say you are, I have glorious news for you. Your uncle is dead, and has left an immense fortune, which I will put you in possession of when all legal doubts are removed."

They went by the coach, saw the pre