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WIDOW BLUNT; OR, THE STORY OF A HALF-SOVEREIGN.

farmer's wife was so well pleased with the way her orders had been executed that she told Widow Blunt to go home as soon as she had taken her tea in the kitchen, and gave her one shilling and sixpence for her day's work. The poor woman could think only of the half-sovereign, and how many comforts it would buy her poor boy. Then she felt it was not hers and it would not be honest to keep it. What was she to do? Then her poor child's pale face asking for something to eat haunted her, and she felt how much it would buy him-perhaps save his life.

All that night the poor woman tried to think the half-sovereign was hers, and no one would miss it, and she might spend it for her child, and how much it would buy him. But she was really a good woman, who loved her Saviour, and a "still small voice" told her it was wrong. All along she had been resisting this monitor. From the first it had told her she was wrong; the money was not hers; she could not spend it.

Thus one whole day and night was she troubled with alternate feelings-love for her sick child and a sense of wrong, of positive sin, to touch that half-sovereign. The second night it was the same, and she determined it was better to see her poor boy as he was, than touch that which was not her own, and she knew was given by mistake.

She rose very early next morning, gave her children what breakfast she had for them, and started for the market town. She went direct to the grocer's shop, and asked for the young man who had given her the things for Mrs. Jackson the last market day.

On hearing her inquiry for his assistant, the grocer himself came forward, and in a very excited manner said she must go to the police office if she wanted to see that ungrateful boy. He had been locked up for stealing half a sovereign, and was to be taken before the magistrates that morning.

"You must go there, if you want him," said the

man.

“Oh, sir, he did not do it,” said Widow Blunt.

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Why, that's just what he says, and his widowed mother, too! But I'll prove he did," said the grocer. "Ungrateful fellow! Haven't I educated him as my own, and paid him well, that he might help his mother? And this is how he serves me. Takes half a sovereign from my till, and won't own he took it."

Widow Blunt, overwhelmed with remorse as she was (feeling this was all her fault), roused herself to all the energy and strength she possessed, and told the grocer what had brought her to his shop at such an early hour. She told her story of the half-sovereign, and her struggle between right and wrong so simply, that the man's heart was melted (for he was really a kind-hearted man), and he listened to Widow Blunt's earnest pleading that the youth might be sent for and reinstated in his former position, and she would not leave until this was done, and she had cleared him from all suspicion.

Then she fell upon her knees in humble thankfulness to Almighty God that she had been spared the terrible crime of this young man's ruin. Had she spent that half-sovereign, nothing would have been known about it; he would possibly have been sent to prison for months as the culprit who had taken it, his character gone, and his poor mother's only means of support taken from her, and her heart broken by her child's disgrace.

"I don't think my own boys will ever hesitate between right and wrong," said Mrs. Selwyn, kissing each of them her good-night.

"Will you tell us another story to-morrow, Auntie?" said Eric.

"If you now go to bed and to sleep, and don't forget to ask God always to give you strength to resist all temptations, dear boys."

A BIBLE READING,

I. WAITING ON GOD. FOUNDATION text. "Wait on thy God continually" (Hos. xii. 6).

The word wait, when used in the sense of waiting on God, does not in the Scripture imply an inactive or listless state of mind, but rather one of outstretched expectation (as a dog in begging, waits with eager attitude, till the food is thrown to him).

The multitude, as they sat on the green grass, waited for Jesus to feed them; every eye doubtless directed to Him.

1. In this way we must wait for spiritual food. Wait to be fed. "Waiting on God is restful expectancy."

2. Wait for direction what to do. "As the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters... So our eyes wait," &c. (Ps. cxxiii. 2).

Answer. "I will guide thee with mine eye" (Ps. xxxii. 8).

In the East, servants are directed by gesture; this necessitates eye meeting eye.

Or, in case of a blind child, the mother sees for the child..

3. The waiting of watchfulness and of expectancy.

"Let your loins be girded about and your lights burning, and ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their Lord when He shall return," &c. (Luke xii. 35-38).

"Blessed is the man that... waiteth at the posts of my doors" (Prov. viii. 34). On the alert, ready for any concealed enemy; eager to welcome the master home.

4. Quietness and tranquillity of waiting. "If we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it" (Rom. viii. 25).

"I waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined," &c. (Ps. xxxvii. 7).

A child waits in hope for the holiday; we wait in winter for spring; a workman waits for his wages; but it is a hopeful waiting which keeps the mind quiet.

5. No premature haste in Christ. He waited thirty years in retirement at Nazareth.

"Mine hour is not yet come" (John ii. 4).

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Your time always ready. My time is not yet full come" (John vii. 6, 8).

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TH Be sober, be vigilant (1 Pet. v. 1).

TEXTS

FOR THE MONTH.

FEBRUARY-28 DAYS.

Faithful is He that calleth you (1 Thess. 15
v. 24).

M They that are with Him are called, and chosen 16 M
and faithful (Rev. xvii. 14).

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Yield yourselves unto the Lord (2 Chron.
Xxx, 8).

Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and

for ever (Heb. xii. 8).
Follow me (Luke ix. 59).

My sheep hear My voice and follow Me (John
X. 27).

If the Lord be God, follow him (1 Kings
xviii. 21).

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19 TH

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He goeth before, and the sheep follow Him
(John x. 4).

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Let us follow things that make for peace
(Rom. xiv. 9).

Follow after charity (1 Cor. xiv. 1).

Ever follow that which is good (1 Thess. v. 15).
Be ye followers of God (Eph. v. 1).

He that followeth Me shall not walk in dark-
ness.

Follow not that which is evil (3 John 11).
O man of God, follow righteousness (1 Tim.
vi. 11).

We shall know, if we follow on to know the
Lord (Hos. vi. 3).

THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY.

NEW SERIES.

WILLIE'S QUEST.

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CAN scarcely believe it, Richard,
That he can be going to sea,-
Margaret's little boy, Willie,

As steady a lad as can be!
And he so fond of his mother!
For his baby love has grown-
Not faded away with the years,
As many a lad's has done.
Why, it surely is gossip, Richard,
The story of tongues unkind;
You know how they talk of Margaret,
And say she is out of her mind."

"She out of her mind! Ay, they say it, And at first I could scarce say 'no'; But, Sir, we were all mistaken,

She's the sanest woman I know.

I have lodged in her house, come Christmas,

This good round dozen of years; And Margaret is brave and clever, She'll never go mad, no fears! But it's true, Sir, Willie is going, For I met him an hour ago. You'd better call in on Margaret; It must be a tèrrible blow."

"Well, I will walk on with you, Richard,

But I hardly know what to say;
She gave me the strangest answers
When I saw her the other day!
She seems to have some wild notion
That her husband is living yet,
Though every one says he was drowned
In the lost ship 'Leveret.'

Of course, I have come so lately
To work in this crowded place,
That I know but little of Margaret,
Except from her noble face.

Just that, and the story the neighbours
Can tell me, so very sad,

Of the fine girl they can remember,
That married the sailor lad.

And how he was not all worthy

Of the love she so freely gave,

Though the lad had the heart of a sailor,
So manly, and frank, and brave.

But drink came in with its blight,
And how could she guard his life?

Had he been at home, she had won him,
But of course for a sailor's wife

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The case is a great deal harder,
For all the comfort and cheer

Of the cosiest home in the world
Could but work when the ship was here.
While away on the waste of waters

With thousands of miles between,

How could the cheeriest light

From the dear bright home be seen;

Save as a pale, pale star,

That shone upon sailor Ned

With a sad, reproachfal gaze,

For the wild bad life he led ?

But it could not cheer and comfort,
And help to a better life,

Like the living voice and the presence

Of Margaret, his bonny wife."

Ay, Sir, that is true," said Richard,
"You have read the case right well;
But, for all that you know of Margaret,
There's more of it yet to tell.

How she followed her sailor husband
With prayers that were half her life.

D

Was ever so wild a fellow

So loved by a godly wife? And every time that the vessel

Came home with a joyous crew, Why, Margaret stood on the quay, Sir, From ever it came in view. And Ned was the happiest husband, In spite of a touch of shame; For how could he help but love her, The woman that bore his name? And then, Sir, their little Nelly,— She clung to her father so; For Ned had no fault with Nelly,Ah! how could the darling know? And Ned was touched, and he promised To drink no more than was wise; But the load did not lift from Margaret, Nor the misery leave her eyes. For what was so frail a promise? It was only a rope of sand; So long as he tasted a drop,

She knew he could never stand. Well, Ned went away on a voyage That took him half round a sphere, And Nelly sickened and died,

Lo! just as the ship came near. Poor Margaret sat with the living Baby clasped to her breast, While her wee dead darling lay So still in the last long rest. And so it came that the father,

Sailed in right home to the quay; But he saw no Margaret waiting

To welcome him home from sea. Then some of the sailors, chaffing,

Said, Ned, she has given you up!' And what could they offer for comfort? Ah! what but the tempter's cup? So he just turned in with the others, And then he would go on home; And so he did, but I shudder

At the sorrowful tale to come. When he saw her, his wee dead Nelly, His grief must have made him mad; Or rather the demon within him,

That roused him to all that was bad. We only can guess at the story,

For Margaret would never tell How cruel the taunt and the blow

Of the husband she loved so well.

We saw to the laying of Nelly,

'Neath the little churchyard mound;

And we kept the dear boy-baby,

Till the Lord brought Margaret round.

For my wife scarce thought as she nursed him,

As tenderly as her own;

That Margaret would rally, and she
Herself would leave me alone.
Well, one of the ships that sailed

That dismal time from the quay,

Was the "Leveret," bound out West,
But she foundered 'way out at sea.
We did not know, just at first,

If Ned was among her men ;
But we do know this, that he never
Came back to the port again.

So now you may guess how Margaret
Must feel to send Will to sea.
You might give her a crumb of comfort,
If you call in, Sir, with me."

Now while they talked adown the street,
Calm Margaret, in her chamber neat,
Gave every moment as it sped,
Some gentle thought for sailor Ned,

Some needful work for Will.

And while the kindly pastor thought
So sadly on the tidings fraught
For her, he deemed, with bitter grief,
He guessed not what a blest relief

Her sorrow's storm could still.

"If Ned is drowned, God's grace is great;
Perhaps he waits at Heaven's gate
For Will and me. Hard hearts can melt
When God makes all His mercy felt.

And oh how we have prayed!

"But if he still roams land and sea-
And who can say it may not be?
Then Will-the world is not so wide-
May find and bring him to my side.;
And so our plan is laid.

"Yes, we have talked it o'er and o'er,
How I should keep the home on shore,
And Will, when he was grown,
Should leave me here to pray alone,

And still my heart's unrest.

“You see, Sir, since our hearts are one,
My boy's and mine; when he is gone
'Twill seem that part of me at home,
The rest with Will may freely roam
Or south, or east, or west.

"Ah! deem me mad, Sir, if you must,
But I can humbly call it trust;
Or be it but a crazy dream,

'Tis happy madness with a gleam,
The only gleam of hope."

"Nay, Margaret," was the kind reply,
"God cheers you, and I will not try
To teach the linnet not to sing,
Or lead the waters of the spring
Reluctant up the slope."

Young Will made a famous sailor,
So steady he was and brave,
He took to the life, with its perils,

As the sea-bird takes to the wave.

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