y our equanimity, and show our
inability to cope with difficulties. Woman's warfare is with little
things, yet we are assured by the greatest of all female writers, that
'trifles make the sum of human things;' therefore, let us strive more
and more earnestly to obtain perfect control of ourselves; then shall
we be enabled to assist others."

"I often think," replied Mary, thoughtfully, "that we make
great sacrifices with comparative ease, because we feel our own
insufficiency, and rely more on God for assistance; while in lesser
troubles we are so confident of success, that we neglect to ask his
blessing, and consequently fail in our unaided attempts."

"You are right, Mary, and it should teach us to distrust our powers,
and lead us to lean upon 'Him, who is a very precious help in time of
need.'"

A long silence ensued, broken at length by the entrance of Mrs.
Carlton's two children, who carried a large basket between them.
Hastily they set it down, on seeing Mary, and sprung to her side: the
little girl clung around her neck, and kissed her repeatedly.

"Maria, you are too boisterous, my little girl; Miss Mary will have
no cause to doubt your affection. Elliot, why do you not speak to Miss
Florence, my son?"

Blushing at his oversight, the boy obeyed, and, joined by his sister,
stood at his mother's side. Maria whispered something in his ear, but
he only shook his head and replied,

"Not now, sister, let us wait."

She hesitated a moment, then laid her little hand on Mrs. Carlton's
shoulder.

"Mother, I know you said it was rude to whisper in company, but I want
to tell you something very much."

Mrs. Carlton smiled.

"I am sure the young ladies will excuse you, my daughter, if it is
important." She bent her head, and a prolonged whispering followed.
A flush rose to the mother's cheek and a tear to her eyes, as she
clasped her to her heart, and said,

"I wish you, my children, to speak out, and tell all you know of this
affair."

Elliot was spokesman.

"We went into the garden as you desired us, mother, and Erasmo and I
picked the peas, while sister held the basket; presently we heard a
noise in the brush fence like something coming through, and sister got
frightened (here he laughed), and wanted to run to the house, but we
told her it was only a sheep or dog outside; but it turned out to be
the Padre, and he came and helped us to pick. Mother, he told us such
pretty stories; I can't think of the na