comfort to you all your days.

* * * * *

REMEMBER THE CAKE.

I will tell you an anecdote about Mrs. Hannah More, when she was
eighty years old. A widow and her little boy paid a visit to Mrs.
More, at Barley Wood. When they were about to leave, Mrs. M. stooped
to kiss the little boy, not as a mere compliment, as old maids usually
kiss children, but she took his smiling face between her two hands,
and looked upon it a moment as a mother would, then kissed it fondly
more than once. "Now when you are a man, my child, will you remember
me?" The little boy had just been eating some cake which she gave him,
and he, instead of giving her any answer, glanced his eyes on the
remnants of the cake which lay on the table. "Well," said Mrs. M.,
"you will remember the cake at Barley Wood, wont you?" "Yes," said the
boy, "It was nice cake, and you are _so kind_ that I will remember
both." "That is right," she replied, "I like to have the young
remember me for _being kin_--then you will remember old Mrs. Hannah
More?"

"Always, ma'am, I'll try to remember you always." "What a good child"
said she, after his mother was gone, "and of good stock; that child
will be as true as steel. It was so much more natural that the child
should remember the cake than an old woman, that I love his
sincerity." She died on the 7th of Sept., 1833, aged eighty-eight.
She was buried in Wrighton churchyard, beneath an old tree which is
still flourishing.

* * * * *

BENNY'S FIRST DRAWING.

You have perhaps heard of Benjamin West, the celebrated artist. I will
tell you about his first effort in drawing.

One of his sisters who had been married some time, came with her babe
to spend a few days at her father's. When the child was asleep in the
cradle, Mrs. West invited her daughter to gather flowers in the
garden, and told Benjamin to take care of the little child while they
were gone; and gave him a fan to flap away the flies from his little
charge. After some time the child appeared to smile in its sleep, and
it attracted young Benney's attention, he was so pleased with the
smiling, sleeping babe, that he thought he would see what he could do
at drawing a portrait of it. He was only in his seventh year; he got
some paper, pens, and some red and black ink, and commenced his work,
and soon drew the picture of the babe.

Hearing his mother and sister coming in from the garden