Home he went as fast as he could get there, and ran up into his bedroom.
Then, for the first time since he had begun to save his "shrimp-money"
he opened his bank and counted its contents. "Three dollars and
twenty-two cents!" he cried, "almost enough. I was going to buy
something for myself this time, but I'll have that ring before another
week."

Hiram worked early and late for the next few days. He caught more
shrimps than he had ever caught in the same length of time, and sold
them readily.

"I think there must be something you are wanting, very much, my boy,"
said his mother.

"Yes, there is," replied Hiram.

At the end of the week he had the sum he desired. Hurrying to the shop
where he had seen the ring, before going inside he gave one hasty,
almost frightened look into the window. Could it be gone! No, there it
was flashing and sparkling as before.

That evening, he placed it on his mother's finger. She looked at it in
surprise. "It is yours, mother," he cried, proudly, "your very own, I
bought it with my shrimp money. I was determined my mother should have a
ring as handsome as those ladies wear."

"My dear boy," said his mother, while something as bright as the shining
stone flashed in her eyes, "Not one of those ladies can value their
rings as I shall value mine."

Years afterwards Hiram learned that what he had bought for a diamond was
only a bit of glass.

"Did you know it then, mother?" he asked.

His mother nodded. "And you never told me."

"It was brighter to me than any real diamond," she said, "the brightness
I saw flash in it was the unselfish love of my boy."

THE ANT'S HOUSE.

"What a curious picture that is at the head of this story." That is what
I think I hear some of the "Little Ones" say. "What does it mean?" some
one asks. It looks like a procession of ants. That is just what it is.
A procession of ants all marching off to find a new home. Some one has
destroyed their old one. Let us hope no one did it on purpose.

The ants are very busy and very nice little creatures. If their houses
are stepped upon, or injured so as to be useless the ants immediately go
to work to repair damages. They do not sit down and fuss about it first,
but I have no doubt they let each other know what they think. And how
do you suppose they do this? By touching each other with their tiny
feelers.

After they have talked in this way, and decided what is to be done some
of them take the eggs