partings,
there was One who would "never leave nor forsake" them, and to whom they
were indebted for the first helping hand, when they were in their rags
and misery, and forsaken of man.

At last the great gulf of Saint Lawrence was entered, and here the
vessel was beset with ice, so that she could not advance at a greater
rate than two or three miles an hour for a considerable distance.

Soon, however, those fields of frozen sea were passed, and the end of
the voyage drew near. Then was there a marvellous outbreak of pens,
ink, and paper, for the juvenile flock was smitten with a sudden desire
to write home before going to the interior of the new land.

It was a sad truth that many of the poor boys had neither parent nor
relative to correspond with, but these were none the less eager in their
literary work, for had they not Miss Macpherson and the ladies of the
Home to write to?

Soon after that, the party landed at the far-famed city of Quebec, each
boy with his bag containing change of linen, and garments, a rug,
etcetera; and there, under a shed, thanks were rendered to God for a
happy voyage, and prayer offered for future guidance.

Then the Guardian commenced business. He had momentous work to do. The
Home of Industry and its work are well-known in Canada. Dusty diamonds
sent out from the Beehive were by that time appreciated, and therefore
coveted; for the western land is vast, and the labourers are
comparatively few. People were eager to get the boys, but the character
of intending employers had to be inquired into, and this involved care.
Then the suitability of boys to situations had to be considered.
However, this was finally got over, and a few of the reclaimed waifs
were left at Quebec. This was the beginning of the dispersion.

"I don't like it at all," said Bobby Frog to his friend Tim Lumpy, that
evening in the sleeping car of the railway train that bore them onward
to Montreal; "they'll soon be partin' you an' me, an' that'll be worse
than wallerin' in the mud of Vitechapel."

Bobby said this with such an expression of serious anxiety that his
little friend was quite touched.

"I hope not, Bob," he replied. "What d'ee say to axin' our Guardian to
put us both into the same sitivation?"

Bobby thought that this was not a bad idea, and as they rolled along
these two little waifs gravely discussed their future prospects. It was
the same with many others of the band, though not a few were