"My Father is also rich," said the nurse-girl, as she looked up to the sky, and away over the fields and woods. "The green fields and meadows are all His, the blue sky and golden sun, the cattle on a thousand hills,'-all these are His." "And who is your Father?" asked Earl. "He is the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and earth," was the good and gentle answer. ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL. The sunset, and the morning red The tall trees in the forest, The meadows where we play, The rushes by the river-side Yes, all things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, And all things wise and wonderful,- JOHN KEBLE. July 21. The Lord is good to all: and His tender mercies are over all His works.-PSA. cxlv. 9. THE world is beautiful! The golden sunshine, the green earth covered with flowers, the trees laden with rich blossoms, the blue sky, and the bright water,—all are beautiful, and He who made them must be beautiful and good, C. GOD IS GOOD. See the morning sunbeams lighting up the wood, Hear the mountain streamlet, in the solitude, In the leafy tree-tops, where no fears intrude, Bring, my heart, thy tribute,-songs of gratitude, July 22. Beware that thou forget not the Lord thy God.-DEUT. viii. II. "GRANDMOTHER," said little Gretchen, "why do you call this beautiful flower, blue as the sky, growing by this brook,- " a forget-me-not '?” 66 'My child," said the grandmother, "once I accompanied your father, who was going on a long journey, to this brook. He told me that when I saw this little flower, I must think of him; so we have always called it the forget-me-not." " Said happy little Gretchen, "I am not parted from my parents, nor sisters, nor friends. I do not know whom I can think of, when I see the forget-me-not. "I will tell you," said her grandmother; "let it remind you of Him who made it. Every flower in the meadow says, 'Remember God'; every flower in the garden and field says to us of its Creator,-'Forget me-not. THE FORGET-ME-NOT. A lovely little flow'ret Blooms on our meadow green, Its eye, just like the heaven, So blue and clear is seen. And tho' you hear no voices The flower is something saying, It says," Forget-me-not." July 23. Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it.—PROV. iii. 27. LOVE's secret is to be always doing things for God, and not to mind because they are such very little ones. FREDERICK W. FABER. KATIE'S PART. "What have you done, dear children?'' As she kissed her white-robed babes at night, "What have you done through all this day To help some one along the way?" Then each one told of some kind deed, A loving word just spoken; Some sacrifice for others' wants, Or gift of friendly token. But when 'twas Katie's turn to speak, A tear-drop glistened on her cheek. "I cannot think of anything So very good to-day," She sadly said: "only I helped Back to its mother, -that was all; "'Twas naughty when it ran away,— It felt so sorry, for it tried The right way back to go. You told us once we ought to seek "The little chicken looked distressed, And how it cried, poor thing! It was so glad to cuddle up Under its mother's wing; And I was happy when I found 'Twas there with her all safe and sound." The children hid their smiles beneath The bed's white coverlet, But the mother kissed her Katie Just where the cheek was wet. "Your part," she said, "you too have done; God is well pleased, my little one!'' SUSAN TEALL PERRY. July 24. Love as brethren, be pitiful.-1 PET. iii. 8. A THING done for one's self is done for time, but a thing done for another is laid up in eternity. SOMETHING TO DO. Something to do, mamma, something to do! Something to plan, and something to try! And the sun is clear and high; Something to do on a rainy day, Something in which they can all take part; First, you must listen! Do you know Where the pink-tipped daisies grow; Bud or blossom, bird or tree; What if you could send them flowers, Then away, away, the first fine day! Where the sweetest wild-flowers grow; Where the violet-odors mingle; Where the fairy primrose lamp Seems to light the hawthorn shade; Orchis in the meadow damp. Cowslip in the sunny glade; (But not the pale anemone, Far away from hills and valleys, |