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Old Trapper, The
Best Time of the Year, The 192 Pebbles from the Stream
Sandie and Reubie
Dark and Cloudy Day, The 297
Sowing beside all Waters
306 The best thing I could be
Hope Thou in God. 346 Upward and Onward
Voice of Faith amid the
Warrior Prophet's Death,
Light in Darkness
When she kissed me on the
The Hymn of the New Year's Bells.
T midnight by the wintry fire,
We sit and backward gaze
The vanished months and days.
Seen by the soul within,
Of sorrow and of sin.
For much is gone we might have gained,
And many a blank is seen;
The good that might have been.
And lived a better life ;
And waged a nobler strife.
We might have been set free,
Have nearer been to Thee.
Our sins and errors of the past
For Jesus' sake forgive,
A holier life to live.
A life devoted to Thy will,
And strengthened by Thy might; Its guidance, and its guard divine,
Its pathway in the light.
A life whose coming days shall be
In Jesus' service. passed ;
His home and ours at last.
Ring out, o bells, the darksome night,
The tyranny of sin ! O new year's bells, with happy chimes,
The reign of Christ ring in !
Thy kingdom come, O God, in us,
In faith and love and peace ! Dispel the darkness of our souls,
And bid the discord cease.
Oh, help us to press forward still,
With earnest, steadfast mind ! Forgetting in a nobler aim
The things that lie behind.
That thus the best our past hath seen,
This glad new year may be ; The start-point of a higher life,
More worthy, Lord, of Thee.
Ring out, o bells, the evil past !
Ring in all 'nobler things !
And Christ, the King of Kings !
We look around upon our home,
One vacant place is there ;
And plucked a lily fair.
T was Saturday evening, and Melton Street was
crowded from one end to the other. Stalls lined both sides of the way, and displayed every kind
of cheap commodity, whilst heaps of decaying vegetables and whelk-shells disfigured the middle of the road, and poisoned the air for the passers-by. Each vendor was intent on disposing of his own peculiar wares, and a ceaseless “Buy, buy, buy” could be heard the whole length of the street.
On one of the low doorsteps sat an elderly woman, and resting on her knee was a huge basket containing an odd medley of goods, one side filled with various kinds of fruit, the other with tapes and buttons and similar household necessities. But the evening seemed long, and purchasers were few, and from time to time the woman gazed wearily around. For once her usual Saturday trade seemed to have deserted her, and at length she rose from her uncomfortable seat with a worn-out gesture. For the last half-hour not one in all the busy thoroughfare had paused to buy from her little store, and Betty gazed enviously at the more attractive stalls as afterwards she slowly passed them by. An unaccountable depression weighed upon her spirits; she felt out of place amid that rude, jostling crowd, and vented her
annoyance in more than one impatient exclamation. “The world's getting too full," said she to herself; "and it's aye true what they say, the weaker ones must go to the wall. But I'd just like to tell them there'll come the time when they'll be as weak and old as me, and then I shouldn't wonder if they don't change their tone a bit.”
However, at last Betty was free to leave the bustle and din of Melton Street behind her, and turning down a short, gloomy passage, she speedily found herself in a square paved yard, with houses standing closely round, and a solitary lamp-post in the centre. Paradise Gardens was the name given to this uninviting spot, though, it is needless to add, no gardens were visible, nor could aught else be seen sug