I do

black sink and ugly grimy saucepans. believe but bless my heart, to think I've forgotten what I've got here;" and she dug her hands deep down into her capacious pockets and brought up. a bundle of something tied up in a duster. Opening it, she exhibited to the astonished gaze of Claude his clasp-knife, and the other cherished toys, which she had received from Mrs. Wallis with orders to burn them.

Poor little fellow! His bright eyes sparkled with intense pleasure.

"Where did you get it?" cried he "Oh! you precious Ann, I do love you!"

"Ah!" answered she, "I knew you would be glad. Take them, my pretty darling; but be sure and keep them out of old Crossbone's sight, or won't she be mad, for she thinks I burned them, but I knew better."

The boy was very pale now, as carefully wrapping them up he returned them, saying, "Oh! Ann, that was very wrong. We must not deceive, or God will be angry, so I must not keep them, dear Ann. But it is a capital knife," continued he, as once more viewing it, he held it at a distance from him, as a mother would her first-born baby,

the better to see every feature. "Yes, it's the best knife for cutting out ships I ever saw. and he opened it for Ann's inspection.

Look !"

Ann of course declared it first-rate, and pushing it in his hands, said,

"Put it in your pocket. my beauty, there's no harm in it. And I'll take these back."

Claude tried hard to resist the temptation, but it was too great for him, and he put it carefully away.

Presently the prudent Ann thought it time to return, but first those long fair curls of little Fanny's must be combed out smooth, "and be sure not to look pleased; or talk after you get into the town, for if she sees it we shan't get out for a walk again."

And thus those little lambs learned their first lesson of deceit.

CHAPTER VII.

"On this Bible page write,' to her partner she sighed,
'To dear Robert, the gift of his mother;

Who with fond earnest prayer, bids him ever in care
Seek its solace transcending all other.'"

IME rolled on, bringing very little change to any of the inmates of Laburnum Villa, excepting Miss Winn, who was now a confirmed invalid-indeed for the last few weeks she had been unable to leave her own room. She had grown very impatient and fretful. She had never been taught when young to trust in a merciful Saviour, therefore she had nothing to cheer her in the gloomy retirement of a sick

room.

When, one evening, Ann was putting the little ones to bed (she liked doing that), she said, "Poor Miss Winn is much worse to-night, and Jane, the servant at the butcher's, told me to-day she would never get better."

"Will she die?" enquired all in anxious whispers. "I suppose so," answered Ann.

"Do you think she will go to Heaven?" enquired Claude, earnestly.

"Well,” replied Ann, thoughtfully, "I don't know, but I don't think she cares much; besides, for my own part, I would rather be without either her, or missus, for they would always be nagging at me, I know. But good night, my lambs." And she kissed them for the last time that night.

Soon the little girls were fast asleep; but had you listened at Claude's door you might have heard him saying, "Poor Miss Winn! I wonder if she has got a bible."

The old clock on the stairs had just struck eleven. Miss Winn was tossing restlessly upon her bed, a night-light was burning; and with the exception of the steady hard-breathing of Mrs. Wallis (who slept in another bed in the same chamber), all was quiet as the grave in that sickroom-when the door slowly opened, and the figure of Claude, attired in his white night-dress, holding his little bible (his mother's dying-gift) in

his hands, entered. Closing the door gently after him, he went up to the side of the sick woman's bed; and tenderly kissing her cheek, placed his bible in her hands, whispering—

"I'll lend you it, dear Miss Winn. It is full of such beautiful stories, and it will shew you the road to Heaven, and you'll see mamma there. Oh! you will love her; and will you tell her I am trying to be a good boy, and do all she used to tell me; and oh! please Miss Winn, will you tell her, I kept the knife; I could not help it, but I am afraid I did wrong."

Miss Winn had never moved or spoken; she lay, trembling in every limb.

Slowly and quietly the little white figure disappeared; after once more kissing the wasted cheek of the invalid.

Little Claude was soon fast asleep.

Not so

Miss Winn; she turned from side to side for some time, and at last she called to her sister.

Mrs. Wallis was at the bedside at once, with the medicine and spoon in her hand, but Miss Winn cried out, "I do not want that, I want you to read to me out of this book."

Mrs. Wallis sighed, as she wearily rubbed her