ard was twelve,
Julia ten years old.

"What upon earth ails the children?" asked Mr. Morris, who saw that
something agitated them. Mrs. Sackville explained as far as she could
without making a display of their charity. "They are good children, very
good children," said Mr. Morris, "and I think you have tried them a
little too far, sister; but, dear souls, it shall all be made up to
them. Where is that purse poor Ned was fingering? and that basket for
Julia? I'll buy them both; they shall have them."

"No, my dear brother, you must not indeed interpose your kindness--you
will spoil all. The result has proved that I did not try them too far,
though I confess I was at one time a little afraid I had done what I
have often seen children do, pulled up the flower in trying to ascertain
whether it had taken root. I have now more confidence that their hearts
have that good soil into which the roots of virtue may strike deeply;
and they now know the full cost of a charitable action which is
performed by the voluntary and deliberate sacrifice of personal
indulgence."

"You are right, perfectly right my dear," said Mr. Sackville.

"Yes, I believe you are right," said Mr. Morris, reluctantly replacing
the articles, "but it's deuced hard upon the children."

"It is more blessed to give than to receive," said the nun, in a sweet
tone of voice, and added, "I assure you madam, I never missed a sale of
our little wares with so much satisfaction."

The visiters then took leave of the amiable sister, and in the course
of the evening embarked on board the steam-boat. When they arose in the
morning, they had already reached the mouth of the Sorrel. It was one
of the most beautiful of all the bright days of summer. A gentle west
wind tempered the sun's heat, and if, as saith the good book, 'a
cheerful countenance betokeneth the heart in prosperity,' it might be
inferred from the happy faces of our friends, that their minds were
as bright and clear as the cloudless sky. Even Mrs. Barton had lost
her downcast despondent look, and the pleasant light of gratitude and
hope was diffused over her honest countenance. Edward and Julia were
unusually animated, and their mother observed their joyous step as they
bounded over the decks, their sparkling glances, and their gleeful
chatterings which fell like music on her ear: she traced their uncommon
spirits to the little struggle and victory of the preceding day, and
rightly, for it is active good