ory," said George. "I will call it

A GLASGOW FACTORY BOY.

"Just above the wharves of Glasgow, on the banks of the Clyde, there
once lived a factory boy, whom I will call Davie. At the age of ten he
entered a cotton factory as 'piecer.' He was employed from six o'clock
in the morning till eight at night. His parents were very poor, and he
well knew that his must be a boyhood of very hard labor. But then and
there, in that buzzing factory, he resolved that he would obtain an
education, and would become an intelligent and a useful man. With his
very first week's wages he purchased 'Ruddiman's Rudiments of Latin,'
He then entered an evening school that met between the hours of eight
and ten. He paid the expenses of his instruction out of his own hard
earnings. At the age of sixteen he could read Virgil and Horace as
readily as the pupils of the English grammar schools.

"He next began a course of self-instruction. He had been advanced in
the factory from a 'piecer' to the spinning-jenny. He brought his
books to the factory, and placing one of them on the 'jenny,' with the
lesson open before him, he divided his attention between the running
of the spindles and rudiments of knowledge. He now began to aspire to
become a preacher and a missionary, and to devote his life in some
self-sacrificing way to the good of mankind. He entered Glasgow
University. He knew that he must work his way, but he also knew the
power of resolution, and he was willing to make almost any sacrifice
to gain the end. He worked at cotton-spinning in the summer, lived
frugally, and applied his savings to his college studies in the
winter. He completed the allotted course, and at the close was able
triumphantly to say, '_I never had a farthing that I did not earn_.'

"That boy was Dr. David Livingstone."

"An excellent story," said Master Lewis. "A sermon in a story, and a
volume of philosophy in a life. Now, Tommy, what is the most
attractive thing _you_ have seen?"

"I see it now. Oh, look! look!" said Tommy, flying to the window.

The full moon was hanging over the great castle, whitening its grim
turrets.

The boys all gazed upon the scene, which appeared almost too beautiful
for reality.

"It looks like a castle in the sky," said Wyllys.

Story-telling was at an end. So the exercises ended with an exhibition
of Edinburgh Castle by moonlight.

[Illustration: {CAESAR'S LEGIONS LANDING IN BRITAIN.}]

CHAPTER VII.

A RAINY EVENI