many children whose fathers are dead, and some are very sick, and they find it difficult to get the plainest food. At Christmas time we should especially remember these. A week or two beforehand we should look our acquaintances through, and say to ourselves, now who will be without Christmas fare, and then we should send them a pork-pie, or a plum-loaf, or some tea and sugar. And after we have done this we shall enjoy our own all the better.

Our young friends will see two pictures on pages 184-5, representing a Christmas party and Christmas games. If they will look at them closely they will see what the games are. We have also inserted two poems, one called Santa Claus in trouble, and the other called Christmas night, which tells how a poor boy lost his life in a snow storm.

SANTA CLAUS IN TROUBLE.

How very much I've wondered,
And o'er the problem pondered,

While busy with my toys

If I should once grow sick or numb, Whatever could or would become

Of all the girls and boys!

Without a Christmas they can't live,
So Santa Claus must work and give;
But oh, my labour's ponderous!
My wares, to gratify and please,
To give youth joy, and parents ease,
Must be both good and wondrous.

Rushing flood and wildest panic, Which startle banker and mechanic,

Dare never make me quail;

For not a girl nor any boys
Could hold esteem for Santa Claus,
If once his funds should fail.

But I am growing old, my dears,
And cares increasing with the years
That multiply so fast.
When I was young I took my ease,
The children few nor hard to please,
How different was the past!

I'm busy now both day and night, I plan and work with all my might From one year to another; I've journeymen and 'prentice, too, A helpful and industrious crew,

Who work like bees together.

I've many shops in every land,
Where busy head and busy hand

Fashion toys and fabrics rare ;
I've ships in sail on every sea,
That bring the precious goods to me,

Through all weather foul and fair.

On Christmas Eve I'd ne'er get through, But for the help of an extra crew,

Who work with heart and hand; Some on teams with coal and with wood, Others on foot with baskets of food, Hurry along over the land.

They hunt up the needy and starving poor, Whom I, in my haste from door to door, By chance may overlook;

Making no noise for the world to hear, They throw in a smile and word of cheer, With here a toy and there a book.

And of such help I need much more, A fact I've hinted oft before

In sermon, prayer, and book; And here announce my need again As I, with worried thought and pain,

Survey the grim outlook.

Of thousands with no laid up stores,
O cruel fate! as near their doors
The wolf of hunger draws.
Then help me, all ye wise and good,
And endless, boundless gratitude
Is yours, from Santa Claus.

CHRISTMAS NIGHT.

"TWAS in the merry sleighing time, when Santa Claus had come,

And the holly and the mistletoe seemed glistening with fun,

No wizard's cave, no coral grot, such charms as these could spread,

No couch of earthly king so grand as Jimmy's Christmas bed!

In sooth, it was a wondrous sight to see the lilies bloom,

Beneath the hemlock's shaggy robe and the cedar's mystic gloom.

All bright and gladsome winter sprites now join with summer elves,

And nodding boughs and flying drifts grow sportive as themselves.

But hark! the solemn, trembling bell proclaims the midnight hour,

When elves and goblins, sprites and fays, must render up their power.

Like lightning all the flowers shrink, the warblers cease to trill,

And naught but grim and shivering trees are

seen upon the hill!

When sunrise kissed the snow-fields along the country ways,

And smoking teams went prancing before the heavy sleighs,

An awe-struck group of farmers drew up beside a mound,

Beneath a mighty hemlock well-known for miles around.

The place was called the Witch's Tryst, and wondrous things were told

Of gatherings here on stormy nights in fabled days of old.

A little smiling face was seen beneath the fleecy drift,

And hands stretched forth as if to grasp some radiant Christmas gift.

And well those stalwart men surmised, they need not grieve for Jim,

For surely heaven ope'd last night and angels took him in!

Dr. Johnson and the Fifth Commandment.

D

R. JOHNSON was a distinguished ornament of the literary world of the last century. He struggled long with adversity, but, by God's blessing on his exertions, he in the end became widely known as an eminent author and critic. When he was young, his father, who was a bookseller, one day asked him to take his place at his stall in the public market during his temporary absence. Young Johnson could not stoop to do as his father wished, and refused. Many years after, when the proud son had been humbled by his experience of the roughnesses and trials of life, though successful as a man of letters, he remembered his disobedience and unkindness with deep sorrow. The thought of his fault followed him so closely, that at length, on the anniversary of his parent's death, he travelled from London to the country town in which the old man had been wont to set up his secondhand book-stall, and stood bare-headed for a space of time with all the appearance, and doubtless all the feeling too, of a true penitent, on the very spot on which his offence had been committed. There is not one of the traits of Dr. Johnson's character which affords us more satisfaction than this. The sight of the worthy Doctor, so learned and so celebrated, standing humbly amidst the jeers of the children and people, who could not imagine, probably, what he was doing, is a most touching one. It is said that, while thus in the posture and guise of penitence, the rain fell, but without driving him from his post until his thoughtful and sorrowful survey of the errors of his younger days was fully concluded.

The duties which children owe to their parents, are in Scripture expressed by the word "honour." The commandment is, "Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." Such "honour' " includes a

"tender, reverent, and grateful love. It is natural for children to feel a special and peculiar love for their parents, from whom they have derived their birth, and by whom they are caressed and nourished. And it is their duty to cherish and cultivate this principle of filial affection, lest it should be weakened or even destroyed.-Lessons from Noble Lives.

“ཚ

The Snowstorm.

HERE, mamma, it is snowing just as hard as ever it can, and I know the girls won't come, for Fanny has a cold, and Mrs. Bell said the girls could come if it were fine. I don't see what it wants to snow on my birth-day for, and just spoil my party."

"My little girl must not be selfish,” said her kind mother, who was preparing cakes and delicacies. Kate was eight years old, and her mother had allowed her to ask four other little girls (sisters) to spend the afternoon with her. "No, my Katie must not be selfish, but remember that there are other girls and boys who are rejoicing at the sight of the beautiful snow, thinking of their sleds, snow-houses, and jingling bells soon to be heard. And my little girl must remember that our kind Father has sent the snow, and that if we only had snow when it would suit everybody, we should never have any, for some little girl's birth-day would come every day in the year; and Katie must think of the flower roots in the ground, and the wheat in the field. The roots were getting cold and the wheat freezing, and God is spreading a white sheet over them to keep them warm."

"O mamma! I should never have thought of all that." And the cloud left Katie's face and there was sunshine inside though it stormed without.

"I know what I'll do," said Katie, as she clapped her hands in glee. "I know the girls

won't come now, and if you will let me, I will take some of all my nice things, and go and have a tea-party all alone with poor little Allie Wade. She has been sick a long time, and Mary Jones says they are real poor; and you know Allie used to sit with me in school, and was always so kind."

"Now I am proud of my little daughter," said Katie's mother. "I am glad that she thought of so pleasant a way of celebrating her birthday. I will muffle her up and let her go, for I know that my girl will be happy when trying to make others so." So about three o'clock Katie started with her basket. She carried the family umbrella to keep off the snow, and, with her white fur and warm red hood, looked very much like "Little Red Riding Hood," as she tripped along through the snow. On her return (just before dusk) she came dancing into the house, with smiles rippling over her face like sunshine on the face of a trembling sheet of water; and when her mother asked her how she had enjoyed herself, she replied: "Oh! splendid. Mrs. Wade propped Alice up in bed with pillows, and we put a tea-tray on the bed, and set out our things. Then Allie asked if the baby might come, and I said yes; so we set him on the bed, and he stopped crying, and didn't we laugh! We gave him a tart, and, instead of eating it edgeways, he pressed it flat against his face, and the jelly spread all over his cheeks, and Allie laughed till she cried; and the baby laughed, and we all laughed except Mr. Wade. He just sat in the corner, and never said a word. when Allie picked out some of the nicest things, and asked her mamma to take them over to him, he said, 'No! no!! no!!! keep them for the children!' and, do you know, I believe he was crying. And he knows you, for he said that I had a good mother, and that you had been better to his sick child than he had; and he said he would remember the date of my birthday, and be a better man. Wouldn't it be splendid if he never drank any more liquor ? And the doctor came in while I was there, and he set me on his knee, and said that I was a better doctor than he was, and that I had cured

But

his patient. And when I was coming away

Mrs. Wade kissed me, and said I had done Allie so much good; and dear Allie put her arms around my neck, and pulled my head down, and kissed and kissed me, and just whispered, "Thank you, Katie;' and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry; but I was very happy, and I am glad the girls did not come, and that it did snow, and that you let me go. And you are just the best mother in the world."

Mrs. Brown looked very happy as she pressed Katie to her breast and said, "I am so pleased to know that my dear little girl has enjoyed herself, and hope that she will always remember that the most certain way to secure happiness for ourselves is to try and make others happy."-Youth's Temperance Banner.

'6

Parable.

ONTENTED said the tortoise; "what a dull idea to be just contented! I am contented myself after a fashion; but you are trying to seem happy, and that is a very different thing."

"Well, but happy; I am happy," persisted the robin.

"That must be then because you know nothing of what is coming," suggested the tortoise. "As yet, while the open weather lasts, you can pick up your favourite worms and satisfy your appetite. But when the ground has become so hard that the worms cannot come through, or your beak get at them, then what will you do?"

"Are you sure that will ever happen ?" inquired the robin.

"Oh, certainly, in the course of the winter; indeed, it may happen any day now, which makes me anxious to be asleep and out of the way.'

Oh, well, if it happens now I shall not mind it a bit," cried the robin; "there are plenty of berries left!"

"But supposing it should happen when all