y of nine children, and as she had
treasured up in her memory many hymns and verses which she had learned
when a child, she was able to teach the same to her children. She was
so kind and affectionate that every body loved her. Her children took
much pleasure in hearing their mother repeat to them the hymns and
texts of Scripture which she had learned.

[Illustration]

Some children are very careless, and indifferent to their parents'
advice; such ones will regret it in their riper years. But Mrs.
Savage's little boys and girls loved their mother, and were very
obedient to her commands. When evening came, before they retired to
bed she would call her little children around her (as you see in the
picture,) and they would kneel down and say their evening prayer. A
pleasant sight, indeed, to see our dear children remembering their
Creator in the days of their youth. Mrs. S. was "useful, beloved,
meek, humble, and charitable." She lived a happy, cheerful life; she
was an ornament to her Christian profession, a "good mother." She died
suddenly at the good old age of eighty-eight.

* * * * *

MOTHER'S LAST LESSON.

"Will you please teach me my verse, mamma, and then kiss me and bid me
good night," said little Roger, as he opened the door and peeped into
the chamber of his sick mother. "I am very sleepy, but no one has
heard me say my prayers." Mrs. L. was very ill, and her friends
believed her to be dying. She sat propped up with pillows and
struggling for breath, her eyes were growing dim, and her strength was
failing very fast. She was a widow, and little Roger was her only
darling child. He had been in the habit of coming into her room every
night, and sitting in her lap, or kneeling by her side, while she
repeated some Scripture passages to him, or related a story of wise
and good people. She always loved to hear Roger's verse and prayer.

"Hush! hush!" said the lady who was watching beside the couch. "Your
dear mamma is too ill to hear you to night." And as she said this, she
came forward and laid her hand gently upon his arm as if she would
lead him from the room. "I cannot go to bed to night," said the little
boy, "without saying my prayers--I cannot."

Roger's dying mother heard his voice, and his sobs, and although she
had been nearly insensible to everything around her, yet she requested
the attendant lady to bring the boy and lay him near her side. Her
request was grant