A GAME OF ENGLISH HISTORY.

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THEY sat around a small table, half a dozen bright boys and girls. Questions and answers flew back and forth, literally, for were they not printed upon slips of pasteboard which were handed about with exceeding rapidity? Upon listening carefully, it was discoverable that they were playing a game of English history.

Mr. Dalton, the father of the boy who was the host of the evening, stood behind his son's chair looking on and smiling at their eagerness. Presently he said, during a pause in the game;

"Well, boys, you do well; you certainly have a number of interesting facts and dates fastened in your memories, but it occurs to me to wonder if you know anything more than the mere fact. For instance, take this question which is the first that comes to mind, 'What two remarkable events in the reign of Charles the Second?' and the answer, 'The Great Plague and Fire in London.' Now what more do you know of those events?"

Fred Dalton looked up quickly. "I know a little about the Fire, but I do not know about the Plague. I suppose that there was a sort of epidemic raged in London at that time."

"And it must have raged extensively or it would not have been called the Great Plague, and have got into history," said Will Ely.

"You are both very good at supposing," said Mr. Dalton, laughing, "but it is sometimes better toknowabout a thing than to guess at it."

"I have read an account of the Plague," said Fred Smith. "It raged several months, all one summer, and one third of the people of the city died. Great numbers fled from the city, and so many died that they could not have any burial service, but just buried them in a great pit in the night. They built great bonfires in the streets hoping that the fire and smoke would prevent the spread of the disease, but heavy rains put out the fires. It was a dreadful time!"

"Indeed it was," said Mr. Dalton; "the accounts of it are harrowing. And now what do you know of the Great Fire, Fred?"

"I know that it started in a baker's shop near London Bridge, and that it burned over about five sixths of the city. It burned three daysand nights. It was in September, after a very hot and dry summer, so that the houses built of wood were in a well-seasoned state, and made first-rate kindling wood. And then there was a wind that fanned the fire and carried sparks and cinders a long distance, so that new fires kept breaking out in different parts of the city. It is said that there were two hundred thousand people who lost their homes, and that the streets leading out of the city were barricaded with broken-down wagons which the people flying from the fire had overloaded with their goods."

"It was a terrible calamity," said Mr. Dalton; "but like many another it proved a blessing, for the new London was much better built."

"Was the fire set by bad men, or was it an accident?" asked one of the boys.

"Without doubt it was set accidentally, though many people thought otherwise. A monument was erected near the place where the fire started in memory of those who lost their lives in that terrible time, and there was an inscription upon the monument charging the Papists with the crime, but this unjust accusation was afterwards removed by the order of the public authorities. But I will not hinder your game any longer."

"We like this sort of hindering," said one of the boys. "It makes it more interesting."

Mr. Dalton soon returned to say, "Boys, there is a 'Great Fire' in the kitchen, and a pan of corn waiting to be popped, and a Bridget there who does not think boys a 'Great Plague.'"

In less than half a minute there were no boys sitting around that table!

F. H.

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ToddlerBABY HARRY.

BABY HARRY.

BABY HARRY, three years old;Eyes of blue and hair of gold;Rosy cheeks which dimples grace;Loving, trustful little faceOf my boy."Mamma, please me wants a drink,Can 'oo get it, does 'oo fink?"Questioned thus my baby boy,As he dropped his book and toyCarelessly."Mamma's busy, she must sew;Can't my darling baby goAnd ask Bridget for a cup?Tell her, 'Please to fill it upFull of milk.'"Twilight shadows crept apace,Slowly lengthened on his faceAs he whispered: "I'se afraid,"And the curly head was laidOn my knee."But," I whispered, "God, you know,Leads you everywhere you go,In the darkness or the light,And He'll make the way all brightFor my boy."Straight he went through room and hall,And I heard his sweet voice call:"Don't let nothin' hurt me, Dod,Don't let nothin' hurt me, Dod,"Rev'rently.And my heart prayed, "Father, teachMy boy to bring to Thee eachTrouble, be it great or small;Be to him his 'All in All,'Throughout life."Oh! for childlike faith, so bright,That through sorrow's darkest nightWe can journey toward that land,Holding to our Father's handTrustingly."Ervanie."

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I HAVE seldom known a boy who was not interested in the history of Napoleon. To me his story is like a novel, and no character ever charmed me more than that of his wife, the Empress Josephine. But I cannot find it in my heart to admire a man who so ruthlessly shed human blood. He stopped at nothing for his own personal advancement. Never has any conqueror fought more battles perhaps than he.

depresses looking Napoleon Bonaparte slouched in a chairON ST. HELENA.

ON ST. HELENA.

All Europe seemed draped in the weeds of mourning during the years of his power and greatness. I have often thought his reflections must have been sad indeed, when, during the last five years of his life, he was a weary exile on the little gum-tree island of St. Helena, with only a few friends around him, and subjected to great unkindness from the governor of the island.

St. Helena is an island in the South Atlantic Ocean, belonging to the British. It acquired celebrity from being the place of Napoleon's banishment. From the ocean it has the appearance of a lofty pyramidal mass of a dark-gray color, rising abruptly from out its depths.

Josephine looking over her right shoulderEMPRESS JOSEPHINE.

EMPRESS JOSEPHINE.

But on approaching, a number of openings are discovered, forming the mouths of narrow valleys or ravines, leading gradually up to a central plateau. On these, at all openings where a landing might be effected, military works have been erected for the purpose of making it secure.

What a contrast does his life there present, to the time when great continents trembled before the power of his triumphant armies.

Napoleon Bonaparte was born in Corsica, 1769, and died at St. Helena, 1821, where he was buried beneath a weeping willow, for nineteen years, when France demanded his remains, and gave such a funeral as few perhaps have ever witnessed.

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Round the Family Lamp

FOR the lovely midsummer evenings I should propose two games, one for July and one for August. The July one is

If any of the Pansies live near a river or lake, and are accustomed to row over the clear, shining surface, they can enter heartily into this most delightful of games. I should first seriously recommend that father or big brother John be invited to take charge of the boat, or if there are not enough big brothers to go around so that every boat can be under trusty guidance, there always is a big cousin or an uncle, or perchance a paid boatman who is competent to assume such a responsibility.

This being all arranged, the fun of trimming the small craft begins. Let each boatload keep all matters secret, so that the grand surprises that come out when the Carnival takes place, may form one of the pleasantest features of the occasion.

Get Chinese lanterns, fasten a pole at either end of row-boat, low enough so that the boats can pass safely under bridges if necessary. Two poles at either end are pretty when decorated with gay lanterns. Pass strings from one pole to another, and across from bow to stern. Hang on these bright bits of tinsel, silver, or any other trifle that will sparkle in the moonlight. Put tinsel or silver bands around top of oars above the handsâ€”and a band around the rower's arms, and around caps. Let the girls wear white, with bright colors, and fancy hats or jaunty caps, carrying garlands.

When all is ready, the forward boat must carry one who rings a bell as the signal to start, also if possible some boys who can play on flutes or horns. There should be sweet voices on all the boats that can sing by a preconcerted plan, something in unison. As the boat sweeps around curves, and dips into bays, and shallows, one could never witness a prettier sight than the carnival presents. It is a regular game of "Follow my Leader" on the water. There must be complete obedience to the one who is leading, great good-nature, and a positive determination on the part of every child who enters into the sport to try his or her best to make all the others enjoy it.

After sailing around and around, singing and playing until tired, the Carnival ends with tying the boats fast, and "following the Leader" over the fields home, dropping the flowers at the doors of those who were not able to take part in the sport.

May you enjoy this Carnival of the Boats, dear Pansies, making it a bright spot in the lives of many, and a memory to gladden the heart.

Margaret Sidney.

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JANUARY was so called from Janus, an old Italian king, and comes from a Latin word Januarius. February comes from februe, meaning to purify, because in that month the Romans offered sacrifices for purifying the people. March comes from Mars, the God of War. April comes from the word Aprilus, which means opening, because then the world buds and blossoms forth. May, from Majores, so called by Romulus, in respect to the Senators. June, from the Latin, Junius, or the younger sort of the people. July, from Julius CÃ¦sar. August, called from Augustus. September, from the Latin, septem, meaning seven, being the seventh month from March. October, from Latin, octo, eight; November, from novem, nine, the ninth month from March. December, from the Latin, decem, ten, being the tenth month from March, which was formerly the manner of beginning the year.

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OH where are kings and queens of earth?The monarchs born to rule?They are here, and there, and everywhereâ€”At home, at church, at school.The kings and queens in glad arrayA conquering army stand;Bright, glad-hearted boys,Full of frolic and noise,Laughing-eyed girlsWith their sun-kissed curls,An army born to command.Why are they kings and queens, you say?Bend low, then, while I tell;They are the kings whose hearts are true;Who love their parents, and honor them too;Who haste at the sound of father's voice;Whose truthful words make mother rejoice;Who not onlymeanto do the right,But are doing itnow, with all their might,Soldiers who love to do well.And why are the fair-faced girls the queens?My friend, they are royal born.They are loving to mother,To sister and brother,To father a shining light.They feel above doing wrong,And with smiling and songMake the dear home nest bright.O dear little kings and queens of earth,March on to conquer and win.Lift up the fallen, comfort the sad,Shine in the lives of the weary and bad,Help raise the sorrowing, pitiful earthNearer the land where love had its birth,Till as saintly kings and queens at last,The burdens all borne, the trials past,You joyfully wait, at the palace gate,For King Jesus to let you in.Mrs. Charlotte E. Fisher.

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Papermade of cotton rags was in use, 1000; that of linen rags, in 1170; the manufactory, introduced into England, at Dartford, 1588.

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MR. ELIHU BURRITT gives in his book called "A Walk from London to Land's End and Back," the touching illustration of the affection of a dog in Truro: "I was sitting at the breakfast table of a friend, who was a druggist, when he was called into the shop by a neighbor, who had come for medical aid in a very remarkable and affecting case.

"He described it briefly and simply, but it would fill a volume of beautiful meaning.

"His family dog had made the acquaintance of a neighbor's child on the other side of the street.

"While lying on the door-stone, he had noticed this little thing sometimes at the chamber window, and sometimes on the pavement, in a little carriage.

"During one of his walks on that side of the street, he met the baby, and looked over the rim of the carriage, as a loving dog can look, straight into a pair of baby eyes, and said, 'Good morning!' as well as he could.

"Little by little, day by day and week by week, this companionship went on growing with the growth and strengthening with the strength of the little one. The dog, doubtless because his master had no young child of his own, came at last to transfer frequently his watch and ward to the door-stone on the other side of the street, and to follow as a guard of honor to the baby's carriage on its daily airings. He gave himself up to all the peltings, and little rude rompings, and rough and tumblings of those baby hands.

"One day, as the dog lay in watch by the door-stone, the child, peeping out of the window above, lost its balance, and fell on the stone pavement below. It was taken up quite dead! The red drops of the young life had bespattered the feet and face of the dog as he sprang to the rescue. His heart died out within him in one long, whining howl of grief. From that moment he refused to eat. He refused to be comforted by his master's voice and by his master's home. Day by day and night by night he lay upon the spot where the child fell.

"This was the neighbor's errand. He told it in a few simple words. He had come to my friend, the druggist, for a prescription for his dogâ€”something to bring back his appetite."

waterfallVIEW OF THE FALLS OF GIESSBACH.â€”INTERLAKEN.

VIEW OF THE FALLS OF GIESSBACH.â€”INTERLAKEN.

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Volume 13, Number 39.Copyright, 1886, byD. Lothrop& Co.July 31, 1886.

THE PANSY.

two womenHINDOO WOMEN OF BOMBAY IN CEREMONIAL DRESS.

HINDOO WOMEN OF BOMBAY IN CEREMONIAL DRESS.

(Extract from a letter written by Pauline Root, M. D., Medical missionary in Madura, India.)

My Dear Friend:

Have you any sort of an idea what it is to travel in a bullock bandy? The wagon itself I suppose to be somewhat like what the Western emigrants used, in days gone by. It is supposed to be very comfortable, and sometimes three or four persons occupy one; but how they do it, is a mystery to me, for my two trips have been by myself, and I certainly had no room to spare.

My first experience was in going to visit a sick missionary thirty-eight miles away. It was during the rainy season. I took with me a servant, who spoke English, and if it had not been for that, I don't know what I should have done.

Bullocks were supposed to be posted along the road, but at the first changing place, none could be hired. We went on, four miles, and there succeeded in getting a pair so frisky that I seemed at times in danger of losing my life. How theydidbehave! One was especially unwilling to be tied. More than once the bandy bumped down with me, and one bullock ran away up the road, leaving the other beside himself with fear. However, we got started at last, but I was afraid of something happening all the time we had those animals.

The river, which in the dry season is simply a great bed of sand, in the rainy season is sometimes so high that bandys cannot cross, except on rafts, and sometimes not at all, because of the very swift current.

On our return trip the river was nearly its full width, and was rushing along with a tremendous sweep. It was not very deep, however, and I decided not to wait the river's pleasure, but to risk crossing it. It took twenty-one men to get us across that river! Pudchi, my servant, piled all my boxes on the board, which, in a bandy, is the bed, and he and I perched ourselves on them, balancing as best we could. One man went ahead to sound the river, two guided the bullocks' heads, two drove, eight took the wheels, five pushed, and the others steadied us; for more than once it seemed as if the current would sweep us over. However, after the first scare, I felt safe, and rather enjoyed my ride. Landed on the other side of the river, the water was emptied out of the bandy, and we went on, for hours, through the palm-tree forests and the banyan-lined avenues. The moonlight was almost dazzling, and the banyan and palm-trees glittered like silver.

Would you like to know the cost of getting over that river? It cost two cents a man! The roads were so muddy that we had occasionally to get help, to push the bandy along. Once, in getting out of a hole, the wheel was thrown over the bank of a tauk; the driver did not dare try going on, with me inside, so I crawled out over the wheel! We were thirteen hours in making the thirty-eight miles. Part of the time I arranged my pillows and tried to be comfortable; but what comfort can you take when, even by bracing yourself, you cannot keep quiet for a moment?

After part of the thirteen hours were spent, I found I was indulging in a headache. I did my head up in a wet towel, and tried to apply "Mentholine" to my forehead; but the jolting of the bandy caused me, when aiming at one temple, to thrust the instrument into the opposite eye. After some experiments I thought it might be safer to make a dive for an eye in the first place, and see where the cone would land, but concluded not to try it.

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A LITTLE boy who came before the pastor to be received into the church, was asked how he expected to lead a Christian life, and he sweetly replied, "I will put my hand in Jesus' hand, and I know He will lead me right." This is just the thing, my little ones, for usallto do, and if we did it, we should not so often stumble and fall. We are so apt to try to walkalone!But this we cannot do, in this dark world.

I called to see a dear friend lately, and she repeated to me a lovely poem in which these two lines occurred:

I'd rather walk with Him in the darkThan to walk alone in the light.

And I assure you the former is far safer for us than the latter. He never lets us fall, if we hold His hand!

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ALICE MERWYN felt as though she had stepped into a new world that Monday morning when she began her summer's work at Lime Rock. An entire stranger in the neighborhood, expected to teach and manage twenty restless and judging from appearances hitherto unmanageable children, and she only seventeen, she was nearly overwhelmed.

And yet Alice Merwyn was not easily discouraged; she had a certain self-poise which some people called self-conceit, others named self-confidence, but which, name it as you will, grew out of a knowledge of her powers coupled with a strong faith in her Leader.

As the days went by she found she had no easy task. There were two or three disorderly spirits in the school who set at defiance all rules. She was surprised at the utter ignorance which some of her pupils showed of the Bible and religious truth.

She had resolved to open school with devotional exercises, as the trustee had assured her there would be no objection to such a course. None of the children brought their Bibles the first day, but in compliance with her request there was quite a show of Bibles the next morning. One or two said they had none, and these were allowed to "look over" with those who were willing to share their books with them. Alice gave out the chapter which she had selected for their reading, and one little girl looked up in surprise to see them all finding the place, and asked with a puzzled expression:

"Is it alike in all the books?" And then she as well as others had to be shown how to find the chapter. And Alice explained that the Bible was the word of God, and the books they had brought were all copies of the words which God had given to his people. When she asked how many knew the Lord's Prayer, only three raised their hands. And as for the Ten Commandments, the most of the children had never heard of them. And Alice thought, "surely here is work for some one."

During that week she tried to teach them the Lord's Prayer, but as they made slow progress in the few moments which she felt that she had a right to use in that way, she thought of a plan.

"How many of you would like to come here Sunday afternoon and be taught about God and the Bible?"

Almost every hand went up, and the appointment was made and kept, too.

And every Sunday afternoon all through the summer Alice Merwyn spent an hour in the dingy little country schoolhouse surrounded by a group of children who soon came to hang upon her words as well as upon her chair.

"Dear me! I should think you had enough of those children through the week without going there these hot Sunday afternoons!" said May Andrus, the daughter of the lady with whom Alice boarded.

"Well, it seems that they do not have enough of me!" replied Alice, laughing a little.

"But they have no right to your Sundays!" said May.

"I differ with you; I think they have the best right."

"I do not understand; I supposed you were hired to teach five days in the week, only," replied May.

"True, Mr. Pratt engaged me for the school week, but I have another Master, May. And he seems to be saying to me 'do this thing.' The children need me, I think, and that is why I said they have a right to a part of my Sundays."

"O, you are too good to be comfortable! Now if you would give up the scheme and sit in the hammock this afternoon and read, how we would enjoy ourselves!"

"I must not disappoint the children!" and Alice went down the dusty road wishing that May was interested in the matter enough to go with her.

After the lesson of that afternoon they lingered a little in familiar talk. Fred Pratt had been the most unruly of all her pupils, but of late he had changed greatly, and his example was having a marked effect upon the good order of the school. That afternoon Alice said:

"I wonder how many of us hope we are Christians? or how many are trying to be Christians?"

There was a little hesitation, a looking shylyat each other, then three hands went up. And Alice's heart gave a great bound of thanksgiving.

"What makes you think so?" she asked, and Fred spoke first:

"For one thing I think I am not as saucy to you as I used to be, and I know I could not help it, if Jesus did not hold me back from getting mad. O, Miss Merwyn! I have learned a great deal from you. I never knew anything about the Bible before you came! I've read it some, but it never seemed a bit interesting, but now I love it, and I just want to tell people how nice it is. I don't believe everybody knows about it!"

woman walking by water"ALICE WENT DOWN THE DUSTY ROAD."

"ALICE WENT DOWN THE DUSTY ROAD."

"I am afraid they do not," said Alice, "and, Fred, it is a good thing to want to tell others the good news and perhaps the Lord will want you to do that when you are older. Who knows?"

Then little Annie Andrus spoke.

"I think, teacher, that I am a better girl than I was, because I do not get so vexed at sister May when she pulls my curls mornings; I used to scream sometimes, and now I just set my teeth hard and ask Jesus to help me to keep back the yell! and I haven't quarrelled with Kittie in a week."

Fannie Brown was older than Annie, indeed she was the oldest scholar in school, and as Alice turned towards her, she said softly,

"I am so happy, and the little hymns which you have taught us keep bubbling over all the time. Everything goes right, and I love the Saviour, and am trying all the time to do whatHe would like to have me do. I don't know as it is being a Christian, but I want to be one, if I am not."

"What makes you so queer to-night?" asked May that evening.

"Queer, am I?" returned Alice.

"Yes, queer and quiet. Your face shines as if you had heard some wonderful news or something."

"I have!" said Alice. "I have heard of that which angels smile over." And then she told May the story of the afternoon, and May replied, more soberly than her wont, "I declare, Alice Merwyn, if there is anything in religion that will subdue such a boy as Fred Pratt has been I shall believe in it! Why, he has been the terror of the neighborhood! And dear little Annie! I shall never twitch her hair again."

May put up her frizzes silently with a quiet look on her face, and at length she turned to Alice and said:

"I believe I'll go to Sunday-school with you after this. I can't have my little sister getting ahead of me."

Do you think Alice Merwyn will ever regret the effort she made to help the children in that out-of-the-way neighborhood to a knowledge of the truths of the Bible?

Faye Huntington.

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MY dear little friends, I suppose many of you have read the sweet story in the Bible, about Mary who broke for her Lord and Master the precious box of Alabaster. It was a very costly and rare perfume. I want to tell you, that although Christ is no longer with us here on earth, yet we can still break for him our Alabaster boxes. Do you ask me how? Well, He says that when we serve His dear children, we serve Him, just as much as though He were present with us. And I think every day, perhaps every hour, we can give to Him one of our Alabaster boxes. I do not mean the very ointment that Mary had, but we can speak kind and helpful words, we can encourage the downtrodden, we can carry flowers to the sick, make our homes sunny and cheerful, lend books to the poor, comfort our pastor, and do, oh! so manylittlethings to make others rejoice!

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Little girlBESSIE.

BESSIE.

I AM a very little girl,I can't say much, but I knowChrist is died and gone to HeavenMany hundred years ago.And he suffered, here on earth,All his weary long life through,That our sins might be forgiven,And we go to Heaven too.And I know how he was born,In a hornÃ¨d ox's crib;Wasn't that a dreadful placeFor a little babe to live?Muvver told me all about it,'Bout the Shepherd, and the star;And the blessed angels, singingWay up in the sky, so far.And He came to die for children,Just as much as grown-up men;And if I am good and holy,I shall go to Heaven, then.I have 'membered it so nicely,That I thought I'd tell you all;And you'd listen, and be readyWhen you hear the Saviour call.Belle Waldron.

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I HAVE lately been reading a sketch of one who finished her work early and went to rest. To those left behind still toiling in the field it seemed that her work was broken off and left unfinished, but He who called her to the service, and afterwards called her home, knew when to say "it is finished"; nothing can be half-done that is done according to His command.

Of "Nina's" childhood we are told of her "golden hair, fair cheek and graceful form; of her quick, laughing eye, of her sensitive face reflecting every changing thoughtâ€”her ready answers to all Sabbath-school questions, and her sunshiny presence at school and at home."

"Her scholarship was bright, quick and accurate.

"In social life few shone more brilliantly, or were more admired and sought after.

"Her beauty was of a rare and noticeable type, her conversational powers were fascinating, and she early developed rare powers of mind."

Her beauty, intelligence and social powers were early consecrated to the Master's service. We are told that "when a little child, from eight to twelve years old, she and some of her companions formed a praying circle and had a little room in one of their homes which they called the house of prayer. They met often in this room which they delighted to decorate after their childish fashion."

I can imagine the little girls bringing from the old-fashioned gardens bunches of flowers, snowballs, peonies, honeysuckles and sweet-smelling pinks and roses, or bringing from the woods evergreens and trailing vines to garland this bower where they met to hold sweet childish communion with their Saviour.

"Another favorite occupation was teaching some poor children whom she and her companions gathered for lessons in sewing and reading."

I cannot tell you all the sweet story of this beautiful life, only a bit here and there. When she was eleven years old she was asked by her pastor how long she had loved Jesus, and she replied, "Oh! a great many years."

There was nothing unchildlike in her ways. She is said to have been a peculiarly bright, active and happy child, growing to womanhood the delight of her home and tenderly shielded from rude contact with the world. But this noble woman, "so eminently fitted for usefulness in circles of refinement," was called to spend her life among the degraded Indians of the Northwest. There were those who thought it a great wrong that such a beautiful and accomplished girl upon whose education so much pains and money had been expended, should be given to the Missionary work among the coarse, ignorant Indians. They thought that some one less fit for the adornment of social life could do the work as well. But both she and her parents felt that the best was not too precious to be given to the Lord to be used wherever he directed. And this is a thought that I would like you to stop over. Let us give our best of everything to the Lord. And when we have given it let us be willing that He should do with it as he sees fit. Sometimes we think we are ready to give our best, but we would like to dictate as to where or how it shall be used. Let us see to it that it is a complete surrender.

If you will look upon the map and trace the course of the Missouri River you will come to a place marked Fort Sully, near the centre of Dakota. To this far-away region as the wife of an Indian Missionary, who was himself the son of a pioneer in Indian Missions, Nina Foster went to make her home in a log cabin, shutting away from the busy world her beauty and her talents, giving her young life to the cause of Indian Missions. She gave herself to the work joyfully. We are told that her "sense of humor and keen wit lightened many a load for herself and others; the more forlorn and hopeless the situation, the more elastic her spirits." She always made the best of everything. Even when the road was so rough and the riding so insecure that she had to be strapped in to keep from falling out of the wagon she made merry over the circumstance instead of detailing it as a hardship. For five years she labored among the Dakota Indian women, who speak of her as the "beautiful woman who spoke so well." Then God called her to himself.

Was this life, with its beauty and its talents, wasted? We cannot think so; we know notwhy God called her to bury herself for a few years in that remote region, and then, just when the work seemed opening before her, why he should call her away. Perhaps he wanted to show to a doubting world that the cause of Missions was so important that for its advancement he would use the very one whom the world looked upon as too good for the work. Perhaps he wanted to prove to some doubter the power of that love that would draw such an one as Nina Foster Riggs away from the admiring and flattering circle in which she moved and lead her to give herself to a life of self-sacrifice.

It may be that he wanted to put a bright gem in the midst of the darkness of ignorance and heathenism, that its shining might "enlighten, captivate, lead forth and refine."

For us, we may learn that our best, our very best, evenourselves, is the gift we are called upon to give. Shall we consecrate whatever we have, whatever we are, to the service of our Lordâ€”now?

Faye Huntington.

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JUST to shine for JesusEvery dayâ€”Just to sing his praisesOn my way;Just to gather jewelsBy his aid,To go onward everNot afraid;Just to drop a love wordAs I go,Just to cheer a lone heartIn its woe;Just to smile for Jesus,On my wayâ€”To work and speak for JesusWhen I may;Just to shine for JesusEverywhere,This, O Blessed Saviour!Is my prayer.Mrs. C. E. Fisher.

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"JENNIE," said her sister Ella, "you are fond of talking about gaining victories; but I think if you would only conquer that bad temper, it would be a glorious victory."

But this made Jennie angry; and she went away to nurse her anger.

The first book she took up happened to be a Bible; it opened of itself to the place: "A soft answer turneth away wrath."

Meantime, would you like to know what was the trouble? On their way home from school, Jennie and her friend Albert quarrelled. Albert said Jennie's friend Lila Johnson missed a word, and Jennie said she didn't; and they disputed until both were angry.

As Jennie read the Bible verse, she could not help thinking what if she had answered Albert that perhaps she was mistaken; then she was sure all would have been right between them; however, she was too angry to listen to the soft voice which was whispering this in her ear; she closed the book, and went down stairs.

Cousin Harold was in the sitting-room with Ella; when he caught sight of Jennie's red face and tearful eyes he began to question. Harold's advice was to ask Albert's pardon; and he volunteered to go with her to Albert's house.

Jennie was almost sure to do as cousin Harold said, and in a short time they were walking down street together.

Only a block from her own house she met Albert, and stopping, said hurriedly: "Albert, I'm coming to tell you that I'm sorry."

Said Albert, "So am I."

"There!" said cousin Harold, "I fancy you have gained quite a victory. What a fine thing it would be, if you were always a brave general, and gained victories for the right."

After that, she went to a store with Harold, and waited while he did some errands. While they were there, Albert came skipping back to ask Jennie to go home with him to tea; that mamma said so, and she had a real nice tea for him, "because it's my birthday, you know."

Cousin Harold gave permission, and away went the happy children who were enemies such a short time before, but had been made friends by a few "soft words."

By a Little Girl.

Woman and children outdoorsSOME OF MISS MERWYN'S SCHOLARS.

SOME OF MISS MERWYN'S SCHOLARS.

The P.S. Corner

SEE here, my Blossoms, keep your thoughts carefully fixed on what I am going to tell you, so that you will understand, and not have to ask me any questions. Sometimes, you know, when mamma is talking to you, you only half listen, and pretty soon you say: "O, mamma, what did you say? I didn't quite understand." You mean, "I was thinking about something else."

Now! Attention! If you, my Blossom, have received, with your badge, a letter signed "Pansy" in which I have answered your questions, and given you greeting, you of course will not expect me to reply to your letter again inThe Pansy. Because people do not receive two replies to one letter, now do they? But if, on the contrary, you have received through my secretary, your badge, and a line stating that your letter will be answered inThe Pansy, in due time, why, then look out for it; though when its turn will come is more than I can tell you; the truth is, there are at least athousandletters now awaiting answers! If some of you get gray before I can reach you with a letter, you will not blame me, will you? Because, really and truly, I am doing myverybest; and I answer privately all the letters I possibly can, so that you will not have to wait so long.

Meantime, I expect each of you to show how patient and unselfish a Pansy Blossom can be in this matter, as well as in larger ones.

I wish you a very pleasant Fourth of July. I hope it will be "independence day" to you; that you will each prove yourselves free from every chain which Satan can think of to try to throw around you on that day.

If you feel like writing to tell me how you spent the day, and what one thing you did in it to give some one a happy time, whom you thought might else be forgotten, I shall be very glad to hear the stories. Remember to send your letters to Chautauqua, Chautauqua Co., N. Y., and my secretary who is there, will see that I receive them promptly.

And now, good-by once more, until August.

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