im, expecting pay."

"Well, why did you do it? You knew you would be late to school."

"Because I thought I _ought_ to help the poor old man," said John.

"Well," replied Hanson, "if you will work for nothing, you may. _No pay,
no work_, is my motto."

"To _be kind and obliging_, is mine," said John.

Here, children, is a good example. John did not perform this act of
kindness for nothing. He had the approbation of a good conscience--the
pleasure of doing good to the old man--and the respect and gratitude of
his friends. Even the small act of benevolence is like giving a cup of
cold water to the needy, which will not pass unnoticed. Does any body
work for nothing when he does good? Think of this, and do likewise.

THE TREE THAT NEVER FADES.

"Mary," said George, "next summer I will not have a garden. Our pretty
tree is dying, and I won't love another tree as long as I live. I will
have a bird next summer, and that will stay all winter."

"George, don't you remember my beautiful canary bird? It died in the
middle of the summer, and we planted bright flowers in the ground where
we buried it. My bird did not live as long as the tree."

"Well, I don't see as we can love anything. Dear little brother died
before the bird, and I loved him better than any bird, or tree or
flower. Oh! I wish we could have something to love that wouldn't die."

The day passed. During the school hours, George and Mary had almost
forgotten that their tree was dying; but at evening, as they drew their
chairs to the table where their mother was sitting, and began to arrange
the seeds they had been gathering, the remembrance of the tree came upon
them.

"Mother," said Mary, "you may give these seeds to cousin John; I never
want another garden."

"Yes," added George, pushing the papers in which he had carefully folded
them towards his mother, "you may give them all away. If I could find
some seeds of a tree that would never fade, I should like then to have a
garden. I wonder, mother, if there ever was such a garden?"

"Yes, George, I have read of a garden where the trees never die."

"A _real_ garden, mother?"

"Yes, my son. In the middle of the garden, I have been told, there runs
a pure river of water, clear as crystal, and on each side of the river
is the _tree of life_,--a tree that never fades. That garden is
_heaven_. There you may love and love for ever. There will be no
death--no fading there. Let your treasure be in t