if we were in this business on our own account we should | shouldn't think she did of such a treacle-faced boy as you! soon be ruined!" So George went, looking very sulky, and having his mouth ornamented with mustaches of treacle. The customer was a ladya very neat, nice, particular-looking lady-who wished to look at some fancy notepaper. George mounted some steps, and reached down a tattered cardboard box; and opening it with his not overclean fingers, he proceeded to display the paper it contained. Pretty paper it might have been once, but now the pale blues, and pinks, and greens, had all alike faded edges of a dirty, brownish-white. DICKERY, DICKERY, DOCK. Look, mother! that is how George went into the shop!" "No," he answered, sulkily, for Martha had offended his dignity. "No!" echoed Grace, looking up from her periodical. "Of course not! Nobody buys anything! I shall be glad when we can get away from this place!" and she went on The Clock struck one, with her story again. Martin began to whistle, and by-andby, taking his hat, he went out, and was gone all the afternoon. An hour and a half now passed, and not a single customer entered the shop. Young Martin Knight had been put into the business by the man who owned it, and who had, a year or two before our story begins, taken a larger and better shop in London. Martin, therefore, was simply paid by the week to look after the business, and whether he took little or much over the counter did not affect his own purse. The shop was one for stationery, toys, and all kinds of fancy articles; also glass and china, brushes and combs, baskets, pictureframes, etc., etc. The afternoon was nearly over when footsteps were once more heard in the shop, and more tapping. By this time Grace had put away her periodical, and had made herself, comparatively speaking, neat-for she had not been neat before-and she it was who now entered the shop to wait upon the customers. Two ladies-who wished to purchase some toys. The "This will not do," said the lady. "It is faded, and toys were in a little room up-stairs; and thither Grace led not very clean, besides." "We have no more," rejoined George; and he proceeded to get the box into something like order again, when he would replace it upon the shelf from which he had taken it. And the customer departed. "It was a lady, wasn't it?" inquired Martha, as George re-entered the parlor. "Did she buy anything? But I VOL. IV. No. 1,-6, the way. 4 any of the toys; but making their way down-stairs, they | time from the customers who were coming and going conbought a box of pens, and departed; one saying to the other in a whisper that Grace contrived to overhear. "Those toys! Why, they were inches thick with dust! I could not think of touching them !" Upon which the other lady lifted her hand with an expressive gesture, and made some emphatic reply, apparently; which reply, however, Grace did not catch. Many days and weeks passed in this unsatisfactory manner, when one afternoon Martin came into the parlor, where sat his mother and Grace at work upon new Summer dresses. He held an open letter in his hand, and his manner betrayed some vexation. "These premises will be required," began he, quoting, as it seemed, from the letter, which he then began to read. "What do you think of that, mother?" And having finished the letter, he threw it on the table among the fragments of muslin and the work-baskets. "These premises will be required! And this day month, too! There, Grace! We shall have to turn out, and you will get your wish. What do you think of it ?" CHAPTER II. THE Knights were gone, and the ill-used shop which they had vacated was left in peace for a few days, and for a few days only. Then the beginning of an entirely new order of things was to be observed by lookers-on. And of lookerson there were many; for the place being merely an unimportant little country-town, everyone had leisure to feel especially interested as to who the new-comers might be. First appeared a young man, upright in person, quick and business-like in manner, and keen of vision, both physically and mentally—at least so the neighbors decided-and he quickly set many hands to work upon the dark, dusty, neglected shop, whose business it had fallen to him to recover and set going again. And he also worked hard himself. There were many sounds and signs of brushing, and scrubbing, and cleaning, and painting, and papering, and finally of furnishing. The old stock, also, of the shop was thoroughly gone over, brightened and furbished up in various ways, and then set aside to be sold off cheaply. And next an abundance of new stock was seen to be taken in-cheap, fresh, and clean, and good of its kind. Then And at last the transformed shop was opened. appeared to interest the neighbors again—a pretty, young, matronly-looking woman, who waited behind the counter; and she was soon discovered to be the wife of the young, man whom they had been observing from the first. And these two were to carry on the business. And well and diligently they did it. Now one had no time to tap the counter before a pleasant voice inquired, "What can I do for you, sir ?" And if one wanted toys for one's grandchildren, one had not to mount a dark, uneven staircase, and then to choose, if possible, a whole toy from a set of broken ones; or a full and honest box of soldiers, or ninepins, with lid, and all complete, from a number of lidless, half-filled ones, soiled, and forlorn-looking, and, for the most part colorless. But the new shopkeeper (Mr. Alfred Lancer by name, who had taken the business on his own account, and not in charge for another, as had Martin Knight), had had a counter put up purposely for the toys, in another part of the shop. There they were, often with the prices attached, and you had but to choose from them. Did you want a nice new book as a present for a friend? There were some neat, well-filled shelves straight before you as you entered the shop, and you might examine them at leisure; and Mr. Lancer would, whenever he could spare tinually, stand by your side, and give you whatever information concerning them you might require. And though he seemed to talk so much, he seldom-and surely this is high praise said a useless word. Just what you wished to know he told you, if he could; and if not, he went away to seek the information for you, perhaps from one of his own books -perchance from his wife. Were you dissatisfied with anything that you had hitherto been in the habit of usingsay a particular kind of pen, or paper, or ink, or inkstand, no matter what he was ready at once to show you a better, and even a cheaper; or he had some useful suggestion to make, or new plan of which he could tell, or valuable advice which he would quite unobtrusively give you. Nothing he did was officious, or forward, or meddling, or fussily polite; and he had no unmeaning, stereotyped smile for everybody on his face, but only a pleasant look of quick intelligence, that seemed to answer almost your every thought, as far as his business was concerned at least. And if he did not speak useless words, neither did he spend useless minutes. Even while he was paying you every attention he both heard and saw everything that might be going on around him. Was his wife serving a customer who did not appear to be getting exactly what he or she wanted, he touched something else. "Show that," he would say, in an undertone. And the customer was pleased with the attention, and would most probably, on that very account, think the thing last shown the best; and going away with a good impression of the shop would, naturally enough, resolve to return to it, on wanting anything, even though it were ever so trifling, that might be obtained at it. And then there was always something to be put in order. There was, according to the old proverb, a place for everything, and everything in its place. And now there was no dust to be seen anywhere. Dust in a shop is surely a sign of idleness and a decaying business. But Mr. Alfred Lancer had not a particle of idleness in his composition, and his was, as everybody soon saw, a growing business; therefore things were seldom allowed to stand still long enough to accumulate dust. The great aim of the shop seemed to be-what should be the aim of all honest shops-to supply good articles as cheaply as possible consistent with a reasonable and fair profit. And, moreover, Mr. Lancer never became in the least impatient with his customers. They might be as tiresome as they pleased, it never appeared to affect him. Probably he considered that they were in difficulties as well as himself; they did not know what they wished to purchase, neither did he. His business was simply to assist them in arriving at a conclusion; their business he had nothing to do with. And he did his part with admirable tact and straightforwardness, without being in the smallest degree more persistent than was agreeable with politeness; and seldom indeed did a customer leave his shop without buying. And after all this, who wonders to hear that his business increased rapidly? So rapidly that he soon required more help. And then he engaged the services of two young girls, and his wife returned to her comfortable little parlor— whither we will accompany her. But she is still to help her husband. She is clever at arithmetic, and he has taught her book-keeping; and now all the account-books will be under her care, and that will be so much off his mind, and only an agreeable amusement and employment for leisure hours to her. There she sits now, with her books before her. She has a pleasant, intelligent face; her dress is pretty and suitable; and all around her is pretty also, and neat and orderly. Most of the things in the room have been chosen for comfort and convenience, and very few indeed merely for show. The walls are besprinkled with inspiriting, encouraging mottoes, This is one :-"Diligence is the mother of good-luck." A fourth :-"In every work that he begun. . . he did it with all his heart, and prospered" (II. Chron. xxxi. 21). Business over, this is the room in which Mr. Lancer rests and recruits himself. His wife hears his step at this moment, and she puts away her books; her husband has seen enough of books all day, she thinks, without having them before him to the last minute of his waking hours. But there is one volume which they are neither of them | willing to put aside or to forget, however weary they may be, and that is the Bible. Each morning and evening they read from it, if only a few verses, together; they have learned many valuable lessons from it, and they will learn many more. It has told them that it is God who puts down one and sets up another, that the silver and the gold are His; that it is He who gives them power to get wealth; and it bids them seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and promises that then all these things shall be added unto them. And before he goes to rest Alfred Lancer thanks the good God who has given him his talent for business, which talent is a pleasure and a living to him. He gives thanks also for the way which has been opened to him for using this same talent, and for all the good things which have come to him. WIT, WISDOM, AND PATHOS OF CHILDHOOD. [We shall thank our friends for original contributions to this Department.] A CLERGYMAN in Southwestern Missouri sends the following story: My wife was instructing our little boy, Brett, five years old, from the catechism. He asked what God made man out of. She told him the dust of the ground. “Well, Ma, what did he make the girls of ?" She replied, "out of the dust." "Well, Ma, how did He make them so sweet?" Little Bessie sat near listening, replied very demurely, “He put lasses in the dust." She is not four, and can't talk plainly. This child's idea of Genesis is quite as instructing as that of many conceited scientists, and a great deal sweeter. We like the lasses in the dust." AND this, all the way from Texas: Coming home from church the other night, which was very dark; our little boy who is two years and a half old was with us. At that moment a long freight train came in, with the brakemen here and there on top with lanterns in hand. The little fellow, when he saw the lights, exclaimed, "See, Ma, see the stars riding on the train." 66 A CHILD thus defines gossip: "It's when nobody don't do nothing, and somebody goes and tells of it." A LITTLE daughter, ten years old, lay on her death-bed. It was hard to part with the pet of the family: the golden hair, and loving blue eyes, the bird-like voice, the truthful, affectionate child. How could she be given up? Between relationship merely, but the love of congenial natures. He this child and her father there had always existed, not a fell on his knees beside his darling's bedside, and wept bitter tears. He strove to say, but could not, "Thy will be done." It was a conflict between grace and nature, such as he had never before experienced. His sobs disturbed the child, who had been lying apparently unconscious. She opened her eyes and looked distressed. "Papa, dear papa," she said, at length. "What, my darling?" asked her father, striving for composure. "Papa," she asked, in faint, broken tones, "how much do I cost you every year?" 'Hush, dear, be quiet!" he replied, in great agitation, how much do I cost you?" To soothe her, he replied, for he feared delirium was coming on. "But, please, papa, though with a shaking voice: "Well, dearest, perhaps two hundred dollars. What, then, darling?" "Because, papa, I thought maybe you would lay it out this year in Bibles, for poor children to remember me by." A beam of play-heavenly joy glanced in the father's heart-the joy of one noble spirit mingled with its like. Self was forgottenthe sorrow of parting, the lonely future. Naught remained but the mission of love, and a thrill of gratitude that he and his beloved were co-workers. “PA,” said a little fellow to his unshaven father, "your chin looks like the wheel in the music-box." MILLY (just returned from a visit to her grandmother): "Mamma, what do you want a mamma for? Your're too big to put in the closet." MAMMA sat in the nursery, sewing, with baby May ing at her feet. Six-year-old Lou was there too, tending her dolly; and Mamma was talking to her of the duty and !pleasure of being kind and generous to those not so well off as ourselves. Lou drank it all in eagerly. Her eyes grew bright and earnest. 'Oh, mamma,” she cried, "if baby had something awful pretty, and there was a real poor little girl coming along the sidewalk, I would go right off and give it to her." 66 A GENTLEMAN whose proboscis had suffered amputation was invited out to tea. "My dear," said the good woman of the house to her little daughter, "I want you to be very particular, and to make no remark about Mr. Jenkins's nose. Gathered about the table, everything was going well; the child peeped about, looked about rather puzzled, and at last startled the table: "Ma, why did you tell me to say nothing about Mr. Jenkins's nose; he hasn't got any !" A LITTLE girl who had often heard her mother speak of her father, who was somewhat bald, as being a self-made man, asked her one day, if her father was a self-made man, why he didn't put more hair on his head. 66 A LITTLE fellow, five or six years old, who had been wearing undershirts much too small for him, was one day, after having been washed, put into a garment as much too large as the other had been too small. Our six-year-old shrugged his shoulders, shook himself, walked around, and finally burst out with: "Ma, I do feel awful lonesome in this shirt!" "COME, PA," said a youngster just home from school, "how many peas are there in a pint ?" "How can anyIf body tell that, you foolish boy?" "I can, every time. you don't believe it, try me." "Well, how many are there, then ?" Just one p in every pint, papa." 66 A LITTLE boy, whose sprained wrist had been relieved by bathing in whisky, surprised his mother by asking "if papa had a sprained throat.” THE little Prince Victor Emmanuel was so fond of his grandfather that they were afraid to tell him the news of the king's death. The king used to relate anecdotes of his little grandson with great gusto. The king was a great smoker, and once this little fellow, desiring to follow in his grandpapa's footsteps, asked for a cigar. "Bah!" said the king. "It's a bad habit." "Is it? Well, then, when I grow up I'll teach you better than to do it," was the quick reply of the little crown prince. One day the little prince was talking with his grandfather, and, as the story goes, asked him what he should be when he grew to be a man. "Oh, perhaps you'll be a king some day; and I hope you'll try to be a good one," was his grandfather's reply. "That will be very pleasant," said the prince. "But can I be a circus-rider, too? Because it would be more fun." A BRIGHT little boy told his father that he had found a place in the Bible where they were all Methodists, and being asked how that could be, said: "Because all the people said Amen!" A SCHOOLMASTER tells the following story: "I was teaching in a quiet country village. The second morning of my session I had leisure to survey my surroundings, and among the scanty furniture I espied a three-legged stool. 'Is this the dunceblock?' I asked a little girl of five. The dark eyes sparkled, the curls nodded assent, and the lips rippled out: 'I suppose so; the teacher always sits on it.' The stool was unoccupied all that term." 66 NELLIE has a four-year-old sister Mary, who complained to her mamma that her "button-shoes" were "hurting." Why, Mattie, you've put them on the wrong feet." Puzzled and ready to cry, she made answer : "What'll I do, mamma? They are all the feet I've got !" A LAD in Boston, rather small for his years, works in an office as errand-boy for four gentlemen who do business there. One day the gentlemen were chaffing him about being so small, and said to him, "You never will amount to much; you never can do much business; you are too small." The little fellow looked at them. 66 "Well," said he, "as small as I am, I can do something which none of you four men can do." "Ah, what is that?" said they "I don't know as I ought to tell you," he replied. But they were anxious to know, and urged him to tell what he could do that none of them were able to do. "I can keep from swearing!" said the little fellow. There were some blushes on four manly faces, and there seemed to be very little anxiety for further information on the point. A LITTLE four-and-a-half-year-old, belonging to a personal friend of ours, desired one day to "go out and play." His mother told him that it was not best for him to go. The child sat down in his little chair and remained silent for some minutes. Then he said, in a sad tone of voice, "Mamma, would you like to have me tell you a story?" "Yes," said his mother, "I should like to have you tell me a story very much." He began : "Once there was a little boy, and he wanted to go out and take a breath of fresh air. But his mother thought it was not best. He pleaded with her, but she thought it was not best. So the little boy was taken sick, and in less than two weeks he died." The mother was conquered, and the boy got his "breath of fresh air." Ат one of the schools in Cornwall, England, the inspector asked the I children if they could quote any text of Scripture which forbade a man hav ing two wives. One of the children sagely quoted in reply the text, "No man can serve two masters." A VERY little boy had one day done wrong, and he was sent, after paternal correction, to ask in secret the forgiveness of his Heavenly Father. His offense was passion. Anxious to hear what he would say, his mother followed to the door of his room. In lisping accents she heard him ask to be made better; never to be angry again; and then, with childlike simplicity he added: "Lord, make ma's temper better, too." LITTLE Robbie went to a show for the first time in his life. When he came home, his mother asked him what he had seen. "An elephant, mamma, that gobbled hay with BLARNEY CASTLE. THE little village of Blarney, in Ireland, four miles northwest of Cork, is famous for its castle, built in 1449 by Cormick McCarty. It stands on the north side of a steep ridge of limestone which rises sharply up from a deep valley, through which runs a small stream called the Aw-Martin. Of the original castle nothing remains except a massive square tower, with a parapet breast-high. Near the summit of this tower is the famous "Blarney Stone," which is reputed to have the power of conferring upon any one who kisses it the faculty of saying all sorts of pleasant things in the most pleasant way. From the virtue thus communicated comes our familiar word "blarney." Unfortunately for many of the thousands who endeavor to avail themselves of the miraculous gift, most of them kiss the wrong stone, the genuine one, it is said, being built into the wall several feet below the top, and in order to kiss it, one must be held by the heels, head downward, over the parapet. Not far from the castle are the famous "Groves of Blarney." Drawing the Seine by Moonlight. THE Southern coast of France is periodically visited by immense shoals of migratory fish, whose capture is one of the chief industries of the of the host were: "Mind and guard against drowsiness; you will be very tired before you reach the next house, but you must push on: for if you once sit down to rest, you will fall asleep in the snow and never wake again." The traveler pressed on up the mountain; but before long the fatal numbness began to steal over his senses, and he felt all but powerless to resist it. The setting sun was shining brightly on the dazzling snow, when he thought he would just sit down for a few minutes-only a little while. At that moment he stumbled against the body of a man BLARNEY CASTLE. half buried in the snow. All thoughts of rest were gone. He dragged the poor traveler out, and set to work to chafe and rub his cold and stiffened limbs till he himself was in a glow of heat. Then he took the lost traveler in his arms, and tried to carry him up the path. A few yards further, he turned the corner of a rock, and saw right above him, on the mountain-side, the hospice he was struggling to reach. Setting his burden down, he shouted for very life, and roused himself once more to bring back animation to his helpless companion. His shouts were heard, and in a short time the monks and their beautiful St. Bernard dogs came down the mountain path; and by their help the wayfarers were soon safely lodged in their hospitable dwelling. In striving to help another more unfortunate than himself, the weary traveler had preserved himself from the terrible fate of being frozen to death. dwellers along the shore. This fishery is most successfully carried on by moonlight, when it presents one of the most picturesque scenes imaginable. The fish, as they are hauled in by the seine and flung into baskets, emit a brilliant phosphorescent light, which gives a weird and almost unearthly heaven who receives heaven in himself while in the world, aspect to the picture. HELPING OTHERS. A TRAVELER was climbing the Alps, and stopped at a châlet for refreshment. When he went away, the last words EVERY man is born for heaven; and he is received in and he is excluded who does not. THE SOUL'S PROGRESS.-Our bodies grow aged, but the soul enlarges its boundaries of feeling and knowledge, and only fails when at last the frail tenement which it inhabits falls to decay. |