there is a rich blessing
in store for those who tenderly nurse and comfort the aged, when called
upon to do so; and assuredly there is a sharp thorn prepared for those
who neglect this sacred duty. Martin read the Bible to her night and
morning; and she did nothing but watch for him at the window while he
was out. As Martin afterwards became an active member of the benevolent
societies, with which his partner was connected, he learned from sweet
experience that, "it is more blessed to give than to receive," and that,
"it is _better_ to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house
of feasting." Dear young reader, do not imagine that we plead in favour
of moroseness or gloom. Laugh if you will, and feast if you will, and
remember, too, that, "a merry heart is a continual feast;" but we pray
you not to forget that God himself has said that a visit to the house of
mourning is _better_ than a visit to the house of feasting: and, strange
to say, it is productive of greater joy; for to do good is better than
to get good, as surely as sympathy is better than selfishness.

Martin visited the poor and read the Bible to them; and in watering
others he was himself watered, for he found the "Pearl of Great Price,"
even Jesus Christ the Saviour of the world.

Business prospered in the hands of Martin Rattler, too, and he became a
man of substance. Naturally, too, he became a man of great importance
in the town of Bilton. The quantity of work that Martin and Mr
Jollyboy and Barney used to get through was quite marvellous; and the
number of engagements they had during the course of a day was quite
bewildering.

In the existence of all men, who are not born to unmitigated misery,
there are times and seasons of peculiar enjoyment. The happiest hour of
all the twenty-four to Martin Rattler was the hour of seven in the
evening; for then it was that he found himself seated before the blazing
fire in the parlour of the Old Hulk, to which Aunt Dorothy Grumbit had
consented to be removed, and in which she was now a fixture. Then it
was that old Mr Jollyboy beamed with benevolence, until the old lady
sometimes thought the fire was going to melt him; then it was that the
tea-kettle sang on the hob like a canary; and then it was that Barney
bustled about the room preparing the evening meal, and talking all the
time with the most perfect freedom to any one who chose to listen to
him. Yes, seven p.m. was Martin's great hour, and A