make, the tale he had to tell! The sight of him was enough to alarm her, and to make her sure something dreadful had happened; for he was deadly pale, though the perspiration ran down his face.

"William!" she said, "what is the matter? where are you going in that strange wild way?"

"I'm going for Mr. Thompson," he replied; "John is very much hurt; I threw a stone at him; it's all my doing, all my fault. O mamma! how I have frightened you!"

No wonder she was frightened; for William had not chosen the best way of breaking ill news, but he had thought only of his own share in the accident, and felt impelled first of all to confess his fault. Though alarmed, she did not, however, lose her self-possession, and saw that the best thing to be done, whatever was the nature of the accident, was to get a surgeon on the spot as soon as possible; so seeing it would take some time to get a connected account from William, she told him to go on to Mr. Thompson as fast as he could, while she hastened home.

When William had reached the doctor's door, and given as loud and as long a rap as his strength would allow, he had yet to endure another pang; for the servant told him his master was out in the country, and he could not tell when he was likely to return. This was a blow to William's last hope; for he had all along fought off his worst fears by reflecting on Mr. Thompson's skill. He stood in blank despair. "Why, without a doctor, John might bleed to death!" so ignorant was he of the nature of wounds. At this moment wheels were heard, and to his inexpressible relief he saw Mr. Thompson's carriage driving up. William rushed up to tell his sad story, and was so hurried and incoherent, that he had to repeat it three times before his listener could understand what he meant.

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Well, well," said he at length, quite coolly, "I'll come directly. I have a few things to look after first; but you may go home and say I'm coming."

"Oh! let it be directly," said William imploringly, for he was frightened at Mr. Thompson's deliberate

manner.

"I must have time to bring plaster and bandages," was the answer; "what use should I be without them?" and with this William was forced to be content, and to return home at once.

When there, he heard that his mother and the nurse were with little John, and did not wish other people to be present, for fear of agitating him, so that William could only send up his message without hearing any thing in return. The time before Mr. Thompson's arrival seemed endless to the children assembled pale and trembling below. It was the first time that any of them had seen an accident, and all feared the worst. At length he came, and went up stairs and stayed at least half an hour before the children could learn any thing of the result, or what was his opinion. At last his heavy tread was heard on the stairs, and William, who could endure the suspense no longer, rushed out to intercept him. He was so hoarse, however, with fear and agitation, that he could hardly put the question he was so eager to have answered.

"Is his eye hurt? did the stone go into his eye?" Mr. Thompson had been feeling really angry with William for causing so much mischief and distress, but he could not help pitying his agitation, and answered at once:

"Happily for you and for him, the stone did not hit the eye itself, though it went very near. But it made a very deep cut, which he will bear the marks of as long as he lives. Let this be a warning to you against throwing stones any more; and remember, too," with something of a smile, " that any fool may break a head, but it takes a wise man to mend one."

It was a wonderful relief to William to hear Mr. Thompson talk in this way; he was sure it was a proof there was no danger, and he ran back to tell his sisters the joyful news. While he was speaking

their mother came into the room. She looked pale and ill from the alarm she had had. But she was anxious to speak seriously to William before the first impression had worn off. She found him penitent and ashamed, and very ready to promise never to have such kind of play again. There was another question yet to be thought of-their visitors in the evening. What was to be done? for there was not time now to put off their little guests, and yet every body felt how little they were able to enjoy any amusement. However, as there really was no risk on John's account, their mother decided that no change should be made.

"I intended it as a pleasure to you all," she said, "but that it can hardly be now; however, after a great fault," said she, turning to William, “it is better that it should not be a pleasure."

William felt that he deserved more than the loss of a pleasure long looked forward to, and was only sorry for his sisters, who had been in no way to blame. However, he did not say any thing for some time. But when his mother rose to go, he followed her out of the room, and said:

"I know I don't deserve to be in the party tonight; may I sit in John's room and give him what he wants instead?"

"I am afraid if you are left together, you will talk," answered his mother; "and he must be kept quite still and quiet."

"Oh! I will promise not to speak a word after the first," said William; "you know I must ask him to forgive me; but after that I will be quite still."

His mother knew that she could trust his promises; and besides, she thought it would be a good thing for him to have a few hours' quiet reflection, instead of being amongst a great many people, where he would be in danger of sometimes forgetting what had happened; so she agreed to allow him to watch by little John's bedside all the evening, and thus set nurse at liberty to attend upon their guests. Soon

after, therefore, she came for him and took him into his brother's room. Little John lay very pale and still upon the bed, his head bound up in white bandages. He seemed asleep when William came in, but raised himself up as steps drew near, and smiled and held out his hand to his brother. The tears came into William's eyes, and he could hardly say what he had to say, but Johnny answered at once :—

"Oh! I was wrong too, quite as wrong as you." William shook his head.

"Do you know," said John very seriously, "the doctor said, it might have put my eye out. How glad and thankful we ought to be that it did not! But I would have forgiven you, William, and liked you just the same, if it had."

Here their mother explained to John that he was to remain perfectly still all the while William was in the room, and try to go to sleep if he could; and having closed the shutters, and set a candle in one corner of the room, to make as little light as possible, she left them. Presently they could hear distant sounds of children's voices; it was evident, then, that their young friends had come. They could hear, too, in the course of the evening, faint sounds of music and laughter; and William was sorry that through his means little John could not join in the games he would have enjoyed so very much; but for himself he had no such wish, he was glad he was able to be alone to think over what had passed. Very often their mother came into the room with soft steps to see how Johnny was going on, and most times he was in a calm sleep. William could see that his mother looked ill and tired; he knew that the alarm she had had that day had made her so, and that she was now obliged to exert herself when it would have been best for her to be still; and this, too, was his fault. At length the little party dispersed. William could hear his sisters stop and whisper at the door for the last news of John before they went to bed, and last of all came nurse to take William's place and watch

by the little invalid all night; and he was sorry that, after a tiring day, she could not go to bed like the rest. This was not a very important consequence of the accident; yet as William left the room to go to bed, he felt as if she also was one of the people he had injured.

John's wound after this healed well and rapidly; and I have nothing more to tell of the accident than that there is now a deep sear on the brow just over the left eye, which will remain there a warning against throwing stones to his dying day.

SCRIPTURE GEOGRAPHY.

GEOGRAPHY means a knowledge of the situation of the different parts of the earth. With most of us our first knowledge of geography is taken from the Bible; that is, we hear first from it of the creation of the world, and of the division of the world amongst the different nations of the earth. But this is only in an accidental way, as it naturally occurs in relating events; and a fuller knowledge of geography is very necessary to enable us to understand, as we ought, the historical parts both of the Old and New Testament. This is sometimes called sacred geography, that is, a knowledge of those countries spoken of in the Sacred Volume, more especially the wanderings from country to country of God's people, and the description of that land called especially Holy for its having been the scene of our blessed Saviour's sojourn on earth, of His birth, His ministry, and His death.

It is my wish now to give you, in a short and easy way, some knowledge of sacred geography, which may enable you to understand better the accounts of people and countries which you have read and will read in the Bible.

I will begin with what all will remember at once,