Walter's restlessness and excitement subsided by degrees, and he fell asleep.

Yes, many a mother's prayer has been answered in an hospital. Walter will not be cast upon the streets again, for his story interested kind Christian hearts, and means were found to provide a better future than any he had ever imagined, to open before him a new life and service of faith and hope and love. Before he left the hospital, his nurse, and the young lady who with her mother had become linked in his history through the accident which attended his impudent frolic, had taught him to read, and he became the delighted possessor of a Testament of his own, eagerly searching out all he could find concerning that dear Saviour to whom Maggie's mother had prayed directly for her, and indirectly for him.

His new friends comforted his heart too about Maggie's fate, for they thought it unlikely that the gipsies would commit a murder to get rid of the child, while their habits and experiences might easily suggest some less dangerous plan for the accomplishment of their purpose.

Scarcely was Walter able to walk again than he pleaded to be allowed to go out alone. It seemed rather a dangerous experiment, for he might be tempted to rejoin his former companions, but it might test his faithfulness to his new professions. Behold him, then, in a neat new suit, pale from his recent illness, but bright and happy in the opportunity to fulfil the mission that lay at his heart, walking as quickly as he could towards a certain crossing in the City. The ragged boy engaged in self-imposed duty there, suddenly paused in the middle of a puddle, recognised him with a "Hallo!" and bounded on to the pavement with a shrill whistle of satisfaction.

Why, here you are! Wal I never! What fine toggery you got! But never mind, it'll soon take street colour. I'll see to yer broom, and I'll get a pie this minit to make a hentertainment to welcome yer back."

"Oh, David, I'm not coming back; I only want to tell

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you how nice it is to be good and clean, and I want you to come too, Davy."

"Oh, oh! so you've got above yer business-can't sweep a crossing now with nobody for yer master, eh?"

"No, I'm going to be taught to get my living honest. I'm fond of you, David. You was very kind to me, and I can't keep happy if you don't come too. Why there's a gentleman what takes poor boys like you and me, Davy, and makes men of 'em, learns 'em honest trades, whatever they like best. Do come, Davy !"

"Be shot if I do! Wot! Aint I hindependent and 'prenticed to nobody but my precious self, keeps what hours I likes, and goes where I choose, and eats when I'se hungry?" "Ah, when you've got anything to eat, and starving when you haven't, and no home anywheres, Davy."

Oh, I allers gets somethin'. I ain't starved yet, yer see. It's you as had better give the gemman the slip, and come and go shares with me.'

66

No, Davy. I think some prayers is being answered for me, and I shan't go out of the way of 'em never no more. Oh, I wish you knew about the Lord Jesus Christ, God's own Son, Davy; how He died for bad sinners, and how He wants us to be good and love him and mind what He says. And oh, David, you've got such a beautiful name—a king's name it is—' beloved' it means, the lady says. And, David, won't you let the Lord Jesus love you?"

66

Stop! Here's a gemman a-coming as allers gives me a shiner." And sure enough a threepenny-piece was dropped into the dirty palm.

"That's wot I calls business!" said the boy triumphantly. "Wouldn't I be a fool to give up my crossing?"

"Then good-bye, David. I shan't ever forget you. May be I'll come and look for you again some day."

66

Good-bye, for a fool as ye are, Watty; but I likes yer lots, I does, and I've missed yer, too, and watched every day at th' hospital to see the lady come out, as telled me how you was gettin' on, till she said ye'd soon be well. An'

I never thought but you'd stand by me and the old broom, Watty."

The tears sprang to Walter's eyes, and he caught the hand of the young rebel with a hearty squeeze, as Davy mastered his own feelings-if he had any-while pocketing a penny from a gentleman who always patronised him as he passed, with a smile into the bargain.

66 There, that's the sort I likes," he said. "It does a feller good to get a kind look-brightens the pennies, it do. So, off yer goes, Watty, and when yer thinks better on it, yer broom's ready, ye knows. Poor Bill can't use it no more, so I kep' it handy for you." And flying across the street, he set to work on the mud with apparent good will and pleasure.

"Ah," thought Walter, as he slowly retraced his steps, sorrowful and disappointed, "if Davy could but break his leg!"

"I leave it all with Thee."

"Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee."-Psa. lv. 22.

DEAR

EAR SAVIOUR, as from day to day
I travel on my homeward way,
Sometimes in joy, sometimes in fears,
Sometimes in trust, sometimes in tears,
Still let Thy truth my safeguard be,
And may I leave it all with Thee.

Without Thee I am weak indeed,
More brittle than the bruised reed.
Though darkening clouds my pathway hide,
Still may I trust my watchful Guide;
Within His arms for succour flee,
And, Saviour, leave it all with Thee.

All power is Thine, eternal Love,
On earth below, in heaven above.
When worlds on worlds are passed away,
Thy years shall never know decay.
Thou didst endure the cross for me:
How safe to leave it all with Thee!

If pain, or want, or sharp distress
Assail me in the wilderness,

O may I trust Thine arm of power
To save me in the trying hour;

And feel, when death shall set me free,
'Tis sweet to leave it all with Thee.

J. H.

"My Cup runneth over."

M

ERCIES, my God, like waters,

With me their course begun ;
And widening, deepening, sparkling,
To this hour's point have run;
Mercies, when strongly clinging,
In weakness to the breast;
Mercies in youth's hot fever,
And manhood's sober rest.

The stream is still unfailing,

Its voice is low and sweet;

I deem its richest music

Is where home's treasures meet.
And in her smiles that soothe me,

And in my children's shout,

I see and hear but mercies
That compass me about.

Yet more than all-discerning

The source from which they spring,
I, once that source forgetting,
Can now its bounty sing.

I praise Thee for the mercies
Which round me freely flow,
But praise Thee most, my Saviour,
That I their author know.

And shall I, when is ended
This brief probation's day,
Be endless gifts receiving,
That never waste away?
How many a perfect nature
Endure the "weight" to bear,
"Exceeding and eternal,

Of glory" given there!