n a feather into the hammock, and said--

"Lie there till you are wanted, and be thankful you've got there!"

There is a certain rule which I think has seldom an exception, though I
know we say that all rules _have_ an exception to prove their truth.
But it is seldom indeed that we see the rule departed from, that "as a
man soweth so shall he reap."

We all of us prove its truth at one time or other of our lives. "He
that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption"; and many
a bitter tear of self-reproach is caused by the crop our own hands have
sown, when we took _our own way_, and turned from His way, "who gave us
an example that we should follow in His steps."

CHAPTER V.

_A TEA-PARTY IN THE ROW._

The hot summer days passed by in the Row, and the inhabitants took
advantage of the long evenings to go down to the beach and pier, and
listen to the bands playing merry tunes, and watch the gaily-dressed
people who frequent Yarmouth in the season.

Little Miss Joy was drooping somewhat with the heat, for the summer was
one of rather unusual warmth. But though she was quieter, and her
voice was not so often heard singing like a bird from her high window
opposite Mrs. Harrison's, still she did not get dull or cross. "My
Sunbeam!" her old friend called her; and there was nothing he liked
better than to sit at his door, after business hours, while Joy talked
to him or read him a story. She went to a little day-school in the
market-place, and was, in old Mr. Boyd's opinion, a wonderful scholar.

Joy had many things to tell of her school-fellows, and there was one
who use to excite her tender pity and her love.

Bertha Skinner was a tall, angular girl of fourteen, who was the butt
of the school, often in tears, always submissive to taunts, and never
resenting unkindness. That little Miss Joy should choose this untaking
girl as her friend was the cause of much discontent and surprise in
Miss Bayliff's little "seminary for young ladies." No one could
understand it, and little Miss Joy was questioned in vain.

"Such an ugly, stupid girl, always dressed like a fright, and she can't
add two and two together. I wonder you speak to her, Joy."

But Uncle Bobo, though confessing that he was surprised at Joy's taste,
had a faint notion of the reason she had for her preference.

"It's like my little Joy," he said; "it's just out of the kindness of
her heart. She thinks the girl neglected, and so s