up the excess
of the past. When sixteen years of their married life had passed, they
were living in a single room in the crowded street of R----. Every penny
of the inheritance was gone--three children had died--three survived; a
girl of fifteen years, whom the mother was educating to be a
teacher--boy of twelve who was living at home, and Jessy, a pale,
delicate, little struggler for life, three years old.

Mrs. W---- was much changed in these sixteen years. Her round blooming
cheek was pale and sunken, her dark chestnut hair had become thin and
gray, her bright eyes, over-tasked by use and watching, were faded, and
her whole person shrunken. Yet she had gained a great victory. Yes, it
was a precious pearl. And you will wish to know what it was. It was a
gentle submission and resignation--a patience under all her afflictions.
But learn a lesson. Take care to whom you give your hand in marriage.

THE ORPHAN'S VOYAGE.

Two little orphan boys, whose parents died in a foreign land, were put
on board a vessel to be taken home to their relatives and friends. On a
bitter cold night, when the north-east winds sang through the shrouds of
the vessel, the little boys were crouched on deck behind a bale of
goods, to sleep for the night. The eldest boy wrapt around his younger
brother his little cloak, to shield him from the surf and sleet, and
then drew him close to his side and said to him, "the night will not be
long, and as the wind blows we shall the sooner reach our home and see
the peet fire glow." So he tried to cheer his little brother, and told
him to go to sleep and forget the cold night and think about the morning
that would come. They both soon sank to sleep on the cold deck, huddled
close to each other, and locked close in each other's arms. The steerage
passengers were all down below, snugly stowed away in their warm berths,
and forgot all about the cold wind and the frost. When the morning came
the land appeared, and the passengers began to pace the deck, and as the
vessel moved along they tried some well known spot to trace.

Only the orphans do not stir,
Of all this bustling train;
They reached _their home_, this very night,
They will not stir again!
The winter's breath proved kind to them,
And ended all their pain.

But in their deep and freezing sleep,
Clasped rigid to each other,
In dreams they cried, "the bright morn breaks,
Home! home! is here