did n't say nothin', she 's kinder still; but she had n't no need to. I felt a leetle meaner 'n I did the day before. But 't want nothin' to my condition when I was goin', towards night, down the sullar stairs for some apples, so 's the children could have a roast, and I heered Joe, up in the kitchen, say to Emmy, 'I do b'lieve, Em, pa 's goin' to die.' Why, Josiar Emmons, how you talk!''Well, I do; he's so everlastin' pleasant an' good-natered I can't but think he's struck with death.'

"I tell ye, brethren, I set right down on them sullar stairs and cried. I did, reely. Seemed as though the Lord had turned and looked at me jest as he did at Peter. Why, there was my own children never see me act real fatherly and pretty in all their lives. I'd growled and scolded and prayed at 'em, and tried to fetch 'em up, jest as the twig is bent the tree's inclined, ye know, but I had n't never thought that they'd got right and reason to expect I'd do my part as well as they theirn. Seemed as though I was findin' out more about Josiah Emmons's shortcomin's than was real agreeable.

"Come around Friday I got back to the store. I'd kind o' left it to the boys the early part of the week, and things was a little cuterin', but I did have sense not to tear round and use sharp words so much as common. I began to think 't was gettin' easy to practise after five days, when in come Judge Herrick's wife after some curt'in calico. I had a handsome piece, all done off with roses and things, but there was a fault in the weavin', every now and then a thin streak. She did n't notice it, but she was pleased with the figures on 't, and said she'd take the whole piece. Well, just as I was wrappin' of it up, what Mr. Parkes here said about tryin' to act jest as the Lord would in our place come acrost me. Why, I turned as red as a beet, I know I did. It made me all of a tremble. There was I, a door-keeper in the tents of my God, as David says, really cheatin', and cheatin' a woman. I tell ye, brethren, I was all of a sweat. 'Mis' Herrick,' says I, I don't b'lieve you 've looked real close at this goods; 't ain't thorough wove,' says I. So she did n't take it; but what fetched me was to think how many times I'd done sech mean, onreliable little things to turn a penny, and all the time sayin' and prayin' that I wanted to be like Christ. I kep' a-trippin' of myself up all day jest in the ordinary business, and I was a peg lower down when night come than I was a Thursday. I'd ruther, as far as the hard work is concerned, lay a mile of four-foot stone

wall than undertake to do a man's livin' Christian duty for twelve workin' hours; and the heft of that is, it's because I ain't used to it, and I ought to be.

"So this mornin' come around, and I felt a mite more cherk. 'T was missionary mornin', and seemed as if 't was a sight easier to preach than to practise. I thought I'd begin to old Mis' Vedder's. So I put a Testament in my pocket and knocked to her door. Says I, Good-mornin', maʼam,' and then I stopped. Words seemed to hang, somehow. I didn't want to pop right out that I'd come over to try 'n convert her folks. I hemmed and swallered a little, and fin'lly I said, says I, We don't see you to meetin' very frequent, Mis' Vedder.' "No, you don't!' ses she, as quick as a wink. I stay to home and mind my business.'

666

"Well, we should like to hev you come along with us and do ye good,' says I, sort of conciliatin'.

"Look a here, deacon!' she snapped; 'I've lived alongside of you fifteen year, and you knowed I never went to meetin'; we ain't a pious lot, and you knowed it; we 're poorer 'n death and uglier 'n sin. Jim he drinks and swears, and Malviny dono her letters. She knows a heap she had n't ought to, besides. Now what are you a-comin' here to-day for, I'd like to know, and talkin' so glib about meetin'? Go to meetin'! I'll go or come jest as I darn please, for all you. Now get out o' this!' Why, she come at me with a broomstick. There wasn't no need on 't; what she said was enough. I had n't never asked her nor hern to so much as think of goodness before. Then I went to another place jest like that, - I won't call no more names, and sure enough there was ten children in rags, the hull of 'em, and the man half drunk. He giv' it to me, too; and I don't wonder. I'd never lifted a hand to serve nor save 'em before in all these years. I'd said consider'ble about the heathen in foreign parts, and give some little for to convert 'em, and I had looked right over the heads of them that was next door. Seemed as if I could hear Him say, These ought ye to have done, and not have left the other undone.' I could n't face another soul to-dav, brethren. I come home, and here I be. I've been searched through and through and found wantin'. God be merciful to me a sinner!" He dropped into his seat, and bowed his head; and many another bent, also. It was plain that the deacon's experience was not the only one among the brethren. Mr. Payson rose,

and prayed as he had never prayed before; the week of practice had fired his heart, too. And it began a memorable year for the church in Sugar Hollow; not a year of excitement or enthusiasm, but one when they heard their Lord saying, as to Israel of old," Go forward;" and they obeyed his voice. The Sunday-school flourished, the church services were fully attended, every good thing was helped on its way, and peace reigned in their homes and hearts; imperfect, perhaps, as new growths are, but still an offshoot of the peace past understanding.

And another year they will keep another week of practice, by common consent.

FROM "TRAILING ARBUTUS."

DARLINGS of the forest!
Blossoming alone

When Earth's grief is sorest

For her jewels gone

Ere the last snow-drift melts, your tender buds have blown.

Tinged with color faintly,

Like the morning sky,

Or more pale and saintly,
Wrapped in leaves ye lie,

Even as children sleep in faith's simplicity.

There the wild wood-robin
Hymns your solitude,

And the rain comes sobbing
Through the budding wood,

While the low south-wind sighs, but dare not be more rude.

Were not mortal sorrow

An immortal shade,
Then would I to-morrow

Such a flower be made,

And live in the dear woods where my lost childhood played.

2962

JAMES FENIMORE COOPER.

COOPER, JAMES FENIMORE, an American novelist; born at Burlington, N. J., September 15, 1789; died at Cooperstown, N. Y., September 14, 1851. At the age of thirteen he was admitted to Yale College, and on quitting college entered the navy. In 1811 he resigned his commission, married, and settled at Westchester, N. Y. His first novel, "Precaution," was a failure. "The Spy," published in 1821, showed his real power, and met with great success. It was followed, in rapid succession, by "The Pioneers," the first of the Leather-Stocking series (1823); "The Pilot" (1823); "Lionel Lincoln" (1825); "The Last of the Mohicans " (1826); "The Prairie" (1827); "The Red Rover" (1828); "The Wept of Wishton-Wish" (1829); "The Water-Witch" (1830); "The Bravo" (1831); "Heidenmauer" (1832); "The Headsman of Berne" (1833); "The Monikins" (1835); "Homeward Bound " and " Home as Found" (1838); "The Pathfinder," and "Mercedes of Castile," (1840); "The Deerslayer" (1841); "The Two Admirals" and "Wing and Wing" (1842); "Wyandotte," "The Autobiography of a Pocket-Handkerchief," and "Ned Meyers" (1843); "Afloat and Ashore; or Miles Wallingford" (1844); "The Chainbearer" and "Satanstoe" (1845); "The Redskins " (1846); "The Crater, or Vulcan's Peak" (1847); "Oak Openings" and "Jack Tier" (1848); "The Sea Lions" (1849); "The Ways of the Hour" (1850). Besides his novels Cooper wrote "A Naval History of the United States" (1839); "The Lives of Distinguished American Naval Officers" (1846).

THE WRECK OF THE "ARIEL.”

(From the "Pilot.")

"Had I been any god of power I would

Have sunk the sea within the earth, ere

It should the good ship so have swallowed." - Tempest.

THE arms of Dillon were released from their confinement by the cockswain, as a measure of humane caution against accidents when they entered the surf; and the captive now availed himself of the circumstance to bury his features in the