none of the playfulness
or childishness that belong to it,--this is my little fisherman, whose
memory already fades of whatever tenderness his dead mother may have
given him. But he is lucky in this, that he has found his work and
likes it; and so I say, "May the sea prove kind to him! and may he find
the Friend those other fishermen found, who were mending their nets on
the shores of Galilee! and may he make the harbour of heaven by and by
after a stormy voyage or a quiet one, whichever pleases God!"

[Illustration: decoration]

HOW LILY GOT THE CAT.

When the twins were about as big as last year's chickens, they had the
measles.

It was in the month of May, and there was a great deal to be done just
then.

There was Celestia's flower-bed to dig into; there were Mary's chickens
to kiss to death, and Aunt Ann's bowls of starch and gravy to upset.
And in the shop there was the cinnamon-jar to be filled up with Scotch
snuff, and the cream of tartar to mix with the soda, and the molasses
to be set running.

Besides these, there were a great many dry wells to be dug in the yard,
and brick-paint to be pounded, and the gate to be pulled off its
hinges, and as many more pieces of mischief as there were minutes in a
day.

It was Davie who had all these things to do, though. Lily, sweet
little blossom, only followed around after him and said "Yes."

But as for Davie, he would willingly have done everybody's work all
over the city, from the President of the University, wearing his
four-cornered hat on Commencement Day, down to the charcoal man who
went by a great many times a day making the prettiest noise you ever
heard, and looking as though he were having the best time in the world,
with nobody to worry him about washing his face or keeping his clothes
clean.

But the mischief had to wait now; for the twins were lying in the
cradle all day long, with their faces as red as poppies, and their poor
little eyes shut up and swollen.

"It is as good as a poor play to see how beautifully the measles have
come out. Davie and Lily will get along all right now, as sure as A is
apple-dumpling, only we must see to it that they don't take any cold,"
said Aunt Ann, giving them a good drink of thoroughwort, and then
hurrying off to attend to the duties of the shop, with her glasses in
her hand and a pair of scissors dangling at her side by a long green
braid.

It didn't seem much like a poor play, or any kind