THE GROCER'S BOY AND THE PIN. A MINISTER, lately visiting one of the families of his flock, inquired about a boy, a grandson of the head of the house, who was a grocer's apprentice in a neighbouring town. His grandmother gave a good account of the youth, and told of him the following story :

"He came home to me the other evening with one of the strings of his apron torn off, and said he had in consequence been much put about all day. said to him, 'Boy, could you not have fastened on the string of your apron with a pin till sic time as I could have got it to mend it for you?' 'Grandmother,' he replied, 'I had not a pin of my own, and the minister, when he was last visiting us, told me I was never to take anything of my master's, even to the value of a pin.'

This is certainly an example of literal obedience, but it shows a fine spirit in the boy. Such honesty is sure to prosper; and this young grocer's apprentice is a pattern to all young people who are intrusted with the property of others.

SATURDAY NIGHT.

A TEXT FOR OUR TEACHER.

August 1872.

J. D.

Aug. 3. Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.-Ps. cxxiv. 8. 10. All bare Him witness, and wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of His mouth.-Luke iv. 22.

17. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water. -Isa. xli. 18.

24. Ye now therefore have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.John xvi. 22.

31. Leaning upon her Beloved. -Sol. Song viii. 5.

ANOINTING AN IDOL.

"HERE is another strange picture, mamma. What an ugly, frightful-looking image! Is it an idol ?"

"Yes; one of the idols of the Hindus in India. I forget its name.'

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"Oh, how ugly! something like an elephant's head on a man's body. Mamma, is it possible that men can really worship such things?"

"Yes; millions of men and women, every day."

"I wonder very much that they do not make their idols prettier and more sensiblelooking at least. But what is that black figure doing to it?"

"He is pouring oil on its head, I think." "What can he mean by that?"

"To anoint with oil, in Eastern countries, is a token of respect and reverence. You know we often read in the Bible, of this being done to holy persons and things."

"But the poor dumb image can know nothing about it. And then it is surely impossible that one can ever love a god like that?"

"NO MILK."

ONE of the great secrets of being happy is to be doing good, or trying to make others happy. But to do this we must learn to be givers. Here I have a nice story to show you how true this is.

Little Robert Manly was only about five years old. Yet, young as he was, he liked to have his own way. He thought a great deal about pleasing himself; and this is not at all the best way to be happy. A very poor family lived down the lane behind his mother's house. The father of this family was a drunkard. He was very cruel to his wife and children, and often beat them.

One day this poor woman came to Robert's mother to beg a little new milk for her sick baby. Mrs. Manly had none to spare except what she had saved for Robert's supper. "But I will give the poor creature this," she said, "for Robert can do without his

milk for once.' At supper time his mother told him how she had given away his milk for the poor sick baby. Robert didn't like this at all. He pouted and cried; he refused to eat his bread and butter, and kept muttering about the milk being his, and nobody else having any right to it. His mother was very sorry to see him so selfish; and she lifted up her heart in prayer to God that he would take away these bad feelings, and make him a better boy.

The next day she took Robert with her to see this poor family, thinking that the sight of their misery would do him good. So they went down the lane to visit the drunkard's family. How cold and forlorn everything seemed there! It made little Robert shiver to look round on that cheerless home. The poor woman thanked Mrs. Manly over and over again for the new milk.

"It kept the baby still all night," she said. "Her father didn't beat her; for he beats her when he comes home drunk, and finds her crying. Poor thing! she can't help it. She's hungry, and wants something nourishing.

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"But I don't know that I can spare you any more," said Robert's mother. want to very much; but-” And she stopped.

"Oh," said the woman, "I know I can't expect it every night. You're very good, and I'm very much obliged to you.”

"Is there anything else I could do for you?" asked Robert's mother.

Nothing, thank you. Now, the most is a drop of new milk," she said, sighing, and kissing her poor sick baby.

As they walked home Robert didn't say a word, though he was generally very talkative; he seemed to be thinking earnestly about something. His mother said nothing, but prayed in her heart that God would teach him to feel and do what was right.

At supper time Robert's bowl of milk was set by his plate. He did not come to the table, but sat looking in the fire.

Come, Robert!" said his father.

He obeyed, but gently pushed his bowl of milk on one side. In a few minutes he went to his mother's side, and said in a whisper,

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Mother, may I take my milk to the poor sick baby?"

Yes, my son," said his mother.

He went into the kitchen; and presently Mary, the girl, came in and carried out the milk. Nothing was seen of the little fellow for some time. By-and-by he came bounding into the room, covered over with snowflakes, and shouting cheerfully,

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'Mother, the baby's got the milk; Mary and I took it to her. Now she'll sleep, won't she? Her mother said, 'God bless you, my child!'-that was to me. And, mother, my milk tastes very good tonight"-smacking his lips—“I mean, my

no milk."

Yes! little Robert was proving the truth of our Saviour's words, "It is more blessed to give than to receive," when he smacked his lips, and said the "no milk" was better than the milk. It made him happier to give his milk to the poor sick baby than to drink it himself.-Children's Friend.

THE TREE AND THE FRUIT.

Do you think that if this doctrine of the cross were not true, such effects would follow from it? Would those South Sea Islands, once red with the blood of cannibalism, be now the abode of sacred song and peace? Would this island, once itself the abode of naked savages, be what it is through the influence of this benign gospel of God, if that gospel were a lie ?-C. H. Spurgeon.

AUTUMN is the time when apples and pears are ripe in the garden and orchard. When the trees are shaken, showers of beautiful fruit fall to the ground.

Father, I think I can tell you something that the trees said," said Milly, one day as she was walking with her father in the garden.

"What is it, Milly?"

"I took a very large apple from my tree yesterday, and my brother wanted it, to take to school with him; but I would not give it to him, till I seemed to hear the trees say, 'Be generous, Milly. Do you not see how we give in abundance?""

"I suppose you gave James the apple then?"

"How could I help it, father? I could not have the trees do better than I." "You are right, my little Milly; and I

am sure you will have your heavenly Father's love and blessing if you continue to heed the lessons that you learn from his word and works. But I have something else for you, my darling."

"Tell me, father."

"When bad fruit drops from the trees, and is suffered to lie about the orchard on the ground, there comes a grub, or worm, that will do harm perhaps to the whole orchard; so the careful owner goes about and takes away all the bad fruit that drops."

"And if I do not try to put away all my evil deeds, father, they will do harm to James, and to all my brothers and sisters ?"

"Yes, dear Milly. One naughty act has a very bad effect upon a whole family of children; and I would have my little girl to live so that she may be a bright example to all around her."

A FLY'S EYE.

DID you ever notice a fly's eye? If you have, you see it does not move as yours does, or as Rover's does. You and he can

turn your eye towards a great many things without moving your head; but a fly's eye is fixed fast in its head. Now, what do you think makes up for not being able to turn it? I will tell you.

An insect's eye is composed of a great many little eyes. These little eyes are half balls, and are so placed as to look many different ways, so that a fly can look sometimes through this, and sometimes through that, and see as much as we can by turning ours from one thing to another. In a fly's eye there are four thousand such smaller eyes-eight thousand in both! In the two eyes of a dragon-fly there are twenty-five thousand, and each one of these little eyes has nerves and all the powers of seeing perfectly in that one direction! This picture is a bit of a dragon-fly's eve, magnified a million times or more.

WILLIE BARKER'S MONUMENT. Nor many years ago, in an old-fashioned cottage near a quiet country town, dwelt a boy and girl, named Willie and Sarah Barker. They were very fond of each other, and except when at school or going on errands, were nearly always together. And though their parents were only poor people, who had to struggle hard for a livelihood, little Willie and his sister used to spend their time very happily.

But one day, when Sarah's brother was running with all his might across a field, he fell, and hurt himself so badly that he had to be carried home and put into his bed before he could open his eyes or speak to anybody. Then the doctor came and dressed his wound; and next morning Willie was in high spirits, and seemed to be almost well again. He talked and laughed with his good sister as usual, and

told her that he would have another race before long.

"But you mustn't have another fall, Willie," she said, as seriously as though she had been a woman.

"Oh, I'll take care of that when my head gets better," he answered.

And as the days passed on, his father and mother quite believed he would soon be strong again.

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I think the little fellow's doing right," were the doctor's words when he came the third time to see him. "But you must be sure to keep his mind as quiet as possible."

Well, Mrs. Barker did what she could for her dear boy; and his sister was only allowed to see him for a few minutes now and then. Yet, in spite of all that was done, a change set in for the worse, and poor Willie died. Then the blinds were drawn down, and the dead boy was made ready for his last resting-place in the grave, while little Sarah hardly did anything but cry. But when she came to realize the truth that her grief could not bring back the light to her brother's eyes or the sounds to his voice, she crept stealthily into the room where the body lay, gazed a long while at his still white face, then took his cold, stiff hand in hers and held it. For the first time she had seen and touched death. The lifeless fingers sent a chill to her heart, and her tears fell fast upon them.

"Poor, dear Willie! I shall always think