sfies all his wants,
but does not even think of me, the Giver of all his blessings. I will
do nothing more for him. After this he shall be a poor, homeless
wanderer, suffering from hunger and thirst, from cold and nakedness.
I do hate people who don't thank me for the favors which I bestow.'"

CHAPTER III.

THE SABBATH SCHOOL.

While his mother was speaking, Fred had dropped his cap to the floor,
and sat looking at her, his eyes staring wide open.

"Why, ma," he said, eagerly; "I didn't know that God would care."

"There is nothing, my child, that our heavenly Father loves more than
a grateful heart. How often did David express his gratitude to the
Most High. He says, 'It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord,
and to sing praises unto thy name, O Most High! to show forth thy
loving-kindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every night.'
Again he says, 'I will bless thee while I live. Seven times a day do I
praise thee.' The Bible is full of thanks to God for his continued
mercies to his undeserving creatures. Moses, the great lawgiver,
commands, 'When thou hast eaten and art full, then thou shalt bless
the Lord thy God.' Joel says, 'Ye shall eat in plenty and be
satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord thy God.' Even Jesus, who
as God, was the Creator of all things, when he took the seven loaves,
gave God thanks for the means to satisfy the hunger of all the
multitude."

"I never thought of it before, ma. I don't believe I shall forget
again. I know, when you pray with me, you always say, 'We thank thee
for food and all our blessings;' but I never before thought that he
wanted us to do it."

"A grateful heart, Fred, thanks its benefactor, because it loves to do
so; it cannot help it.

"Don't you remember, the last time your father came home, how pleased
you were with the birds he brought you? You could not stop thanking
him. Over and over again you said, 'O pa, I'm so much obliged! These
are just what I wanted. I'm so very glad! And I thank you so much!'"

"Yes, ma; I remember all about it."

"Don't you think your father was better pleased than if you had taken
the cage, hung it up by the window, and said nothing about the birds?"

"O ma! of course I wouldn't do that, when he had brought them over the
ocean for me."

"Or, suppose Hatty had taken the beautiful silk he bought for her in
Canton, carried it to the dressmaker's, and then worn it without ever
thanking him for his kindness;