the work, and when sometimes in my inexperience I would venture upon directions and suggestions, she would say, in the most dignified and yet affectionate manner, "You go 'long, honey, into, the house. Your business is to eat things; my business is to cook 'em. We will both cling to our own side of de house." Speaking of a cheerful fire leads me to think of cheerful tones, looks and smiles. A German writer, commenting on these, tells us that "we feel with every heart-beat the power of that noble, good behavior which can never be

acquired. This power cannot be defined in words, but whoever has tried to set it at defiance will understand in what it consists.

"Is it not an elevating, a sublime feeling, that it lies in the power of us parents to endow our sons and our daughters with anything so excellent? Something which will open to them the portals of good society and offer at the same time a mighty weapon to protect them against every danger.

"The secret of education in good behavior and deportment is more easy to understand than one generally believes. It is expressed in the sentence: Never allow in your house a word, a look, an act that differs from the words, looks and acts you use in the best society.

"For instance, the little words 'please' and 'thank you' are so quickly said, why do you only take the time for them with strangers? It is not beneath the dignity of father or mother to impart every request in an entreating manner, and to return. thanks for what is granted.

"When the mother says to her little daughter, Please, Lizzie, pick up my ball,' and receives the yarn with a friendly, Thank you kindly, my child,' then she can be convinced the child will speak in a similar way to her brothers and sisters and to the servants.

"When the father jumps up politely to take the heavy basket which the mother holds in her hand, the next time the boy will do it. The servants in such a house will soon be imbued with the universal spirit of politeness, kindness and attention on the part of all the members of the family to each other.

"If you say to your cook, Please bring me a glass of water,' she will of her own accord place the glass on a plate, and bring it in a nice manner.

"Light, much light, must be let into even the most remote corners, that should be the rule in all things, and the children who grow up in the clear, sunshiny atmosphere will know how to fill their position in life well enough, whether Providence places them in modest circumstances or gives them a coronet in their coat-of-arms."

Uncanonized Saints.

Not all the saints are canonized;

There's lots of them close by;

There's some of them in my own ward,

Some in my family;

They're thick here in my neighborhood,
They throng here in my street;
My sidewalk has been badly worn
By their promiscuous feet.

Not all the heroes of the world

Are apotheosized;

Their names make our directories

Of very ample size.

And almost every family

Whose number is complete,

Has one or more about the board
When they sit down to eat.

Not all the martyrs of the world
Are in the Martyrology;

Not all their tribe became extinct

In some remote chronology.

Why weep for saints long dead and gone?
There's plenty still to meet;

Put on you wraps and call upon

The saints upon your street.

And Fox's martyrs were strong souls,
But still their likes remain;
There's good old Mother Haggerty,
And there is sweet Aunt Jane.
You know them just as well as I,
Since they're a numerous brood,
For they are with you all, and live
In every neighborhood.

Strength for the Day.

"If it costs me such efforts to conquer
The hasty or unkind word—
If by each faint breath of temptation
The depths of my spirit are stirred-
If I stumble and fall at each hindrance,
When a Christian should conqueror be—
Dare I think-dare I hope-O my Saviour!
That I could have died for Thee?

"Dare I talk of the martyr's courage,
And the love that went smiling to death;
I, who fail in such simple duties,

Forgetting my hope and my faith?" Then a light broke in on my sadness,

These words brought comfort to me"Accepted in Christ, the beloved," "As thy day so thy strength shall be."

Consecration.

Take my life and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.

Take my hands and let them move

At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.
Take my voice and let me sing
Always, only, for my King.

Take my lips and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold,
Not a mite would I withhold.
Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my intellect and use

Every power as Thou shalt choose.

Take my will and make it Thine;
It shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own!
It shall be Thy royal throne.

Trust.

I know not if to-morrow
Shall bless me like to-day;
Of night I sometimes borrow

Dark clouds and shadows gray;

But sinful, sick, and weary,

Of this I still am sure:

No clouds or shadows dreary

Shall my sweet heaven obscure.

Oh, much is left uncertain

In this strange life below;

But faith lifts up the curtain,
And sees the inner glow;
And nothing now can move me,
Nor shake my joy so pure,
For Christ has stooped to love me,
And of His love I'm sure.

CHAPTER X.

The Door-Yard.

HETHER or not one can have any door-yard at all depends, of course, on the place where one lives. I am taking it for granted, however, that you have at least a little patch of ground before your door, which you may plant with hardy flowers, or in which from year to year you may have a brave show of the bright little flowers which come in the spring, or the beautiful and brilliant things which delight our eyes in the fall.

If one has only a wee bit of lawn, that may be planted with grass and kept smooth and velvety by constant care with the lawn-mower, or by attention in watering so that the roots do not become parched or dry. The more space there is

for this beautiful green grass rippling up to the very door-step, the better and more beautiful your home will be; and it is quite worth a little care night and morning in the joy it gives you to have this emerald freshness on which to rest the eyes, and to have the sweet reminder constantly before you of the Heavenly Father's love and care.

Think of the millions and millions of grass blades waving in the wide fields all over the land! Think of the clover, white and red, springing up amid the grass! Remember how sweet and fragrant is the breath of new-mown hay, and let your mind flit for a moment over the immensity of this provision of God's love. By no possibility can one count the spires in a single small grass plot, and it is as if one would try to measure the sand by the sea, or to estimate the number of stars, when one stops to think of the multitudinous little spears of green grass rising up all over the land every summer through.

Of all this great provision perhaps you and I have just one little bit which we can call our own. That we may make as beautiful as we please. It may be ragged and stumpy looking, or it may be soft and fine, and what it is will depend on our care. Somebody looking at the velvet turf at Oxford in England said, "How do you account for its beauty and its greenness?" "Oh," was the answer, "it has had a thousand years of sunshine and of rain, a thousand years of cultivation. There are a thousand springs and summers in that green sod."

Of flowers which are beautiful in a door-yard, nothing, to my mind, excels the little pansies, which grow all the more lavishly for being picked; which,