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“Hive,” for a single penny, and we think they will not mind this, when they taste how sweet its contents are; so now, dear readers, we ask you each for the coming year to become little salesmen and saleswomen, for your friends, "The Bees of the Gospel Hive," and they will promise you in return to keep all their stings far out of sight, and touch, and as much as possible

that so,

"To improve each shining hour,

"By gathering honey all the day,
From every opening flower,”

they may have always on demand, a good stock of the pures t richest virgin honey—no dark, dead comb in any Hive, but all sweet to the taste, “pleasant to the sight, and good for food." So we hope our dear little friends will never grow tired of eating, never feel that they have had enough, or so full that they want no more; but that they will get all their little vessels cleansed out thoroughly, to receive the bright golden stream which will be poured into them during the year 1867.

So now, I must once more wish you all a very “Happy New Year,” and fly away to join the rest of my little Bee companions in THE GOSPEL HIVE.

"IS IT TRUE?"

NE bright Sunday afternoon, a tract distributor set out on her errand of love, bending her steps towards one of the back streets of the town in which she dwelt; and prayerfully commenced her work. For many years she had laboured in that bmestreet, and had seen no fruit. Discouraged at times, often wearied in her work, yet never weary of it, she had toiled on trusting to reap in due time, if she fainted not.

She had completed her work, and reached the further end of the street, when she saw a group of ragged boys playing marbles. Her heart yearned over the poor neglected lads. She went towards them, and said in a kindly tone, "Wouldn't you like to go to Sunday-school ?"

A loud laugh was the only answer.

Nothing daunted, she repeated the question, "Wouldn't you like to go to Sunday-school ?"

"We ain't got no clothes to go in!" said one.

"I wouldn't go if I had!" said another.

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'Why wouldn't you go ?" said the lady turning to one of them.

They did not stop to answer; but ran off as fast as they could, shouting, "Methodist ! Methodist !"

One little fellow stayed behind to pick up a marble he had dropped. She held him gently by the sleeve, and repeated her question. Finding that he would not speak, she commenced telling him that beautiful story-seldom told in vain-the story of the Cross. He listened earnestly, his bright eyes filling with tears when she talked of the crown of thorns, the nails, and the cold sepulchre. When she had finished the story, he said, "Is it true ?"

"Quite true, my dear," said the lady; "it is in the Bible."

"But father says the Bible is not true," he responded.

"Does he?" said the lady; "I am sorry to hear that. God sent us the Bible, and gave us His Son, that we might find the way to heaven. Wouldn't you like to go there? You would always be happy,-never be hungry, or ragged, or sad. Wouldn't you like to go p"

Again he fixed his bright eyes on her face, and said, “Is it the real truth ?"

"Yes," said she; "it is all true."

"I should like to go," said he, thoughtfully. I never get beat there ?"

"And shall

Just then a loud harsh voice called "Charlie, Charlie!" And away he ran to his mother.

Very earnestly did that lady pray, as she walked home, that the seed she had dropped in that boy's heart might bring forth fruit. "I will look out for him next Sunday," she thought. "Perhaps I may get him to go to school yet.'

Sunday after Sunday passed away, and she did not see him. One day, however, she was leaving a tract at a very dirty house, when the woman said, "Will you step in, Miss? My little boy says he should like to see you."

She entered, and found that little bright-eyed Charlie was ill. He was strangely altered: his eyes were brighter than ever; his cheeks were thin and flushed; his little fingers grasped the bed-clothes as though he was afraid of falling. She was startled; but recovering herself, she said, little boy! you are very ill; I have often looked for you, and wondered what had happened to you. Have you forgotten the story I told you about Jesus ?"

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"Poor

She did so, speaking more fully about Christ's death as the means by which sinners enter heaven.

He listened as before, and then earnestly repeated his old question, "Is it true ?"

The lady assured him that it was true.

"Jesus did all

this that you might go to heaven. He said, 'Suffer little children to come unto Me.' He loves little children,-He

"I want to go to heaven." Jesus to make you good, Shall I sing to you ?"

loves you. Will you not love Him ?" "I should like to," said he. "Well, you must ask the Lord and if you trust in Him, He will. "Yes," said the child. She sang, "I think when I read that sweet story of old," &c.

He asked her to sing it again. She did so, and when she rose to go, the boy said, "You will come again; won't you? Come soon."

She bowed her head in response,-her heart was too full for speech.

Charlie's mother came to the door weeping, and said, "He's dying, Miss, he's dying! What shall I do ?" The lady tried to comfort her, and then bade her Good-bye.

Several times the lady visited the boy, and every time he seemed nearer death.

One day, as she entered the room, he said, "Oh! I am so glad you have come! I'm happy-I'm so happy! I have been asking Jesus to take me to heaven, and I know He will -I know He will. Sing, 'I want to be an angel.""

When she had sung it, she asked him, "Do you want to be an angel ?"

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Oh yes!" A bright smile lit up his face; soon it passed away, and the boy had " gone to be an angel" in heaven.

S. S. Times.

SALAN, THE SUSPECTED BOY.

PART I.

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EACE be with you, my sweet home! Farewell, I shall never see you again. May God always bless you!"

It was a bright moonlight night when a boy spoke these sad words. Nobody cared for him in all the world; but the people who did not love him were loved by him; for his heart did not know what hatred was. He sprang lightly over the hedge that separated the garden from the field, then hurried along the foot-path, and finally reached a little hill from which he could look down in the bright night light upon the little village that lay before him.

"Return, return," seemed to be whispered to him from within. 'Nobody has missed you yet, and if you will go

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back again to your bed nobody will know that you had left; Where are you going? What will become of you in the wide world ?"

Such questions and thoughts made him tremble, but yet he quickly pursued his way. He had proceeded about two miles when he came to another hill. He then thought he would take a look for the last time upon the little village. Suddenly he saw a burning building. It was a barn that belonged to Millenki, the man with whom the boy, whose name was Salan, had lately been living. But Salan did not know which building it was that was burning. He hastened off all the more rapidly, hoping that by the time the day broke he would be far away.

Millenki and his wife were aroused from their slumber by the cry of fire. To their great surprise they found it was their own barn. It stood near the dwelling, and there was every prospect that that too would be burned. Millenki's wife stood on the stairs, and called out, "Salan, Salan, you will be burnt up if you don't dress and come down." No voice was heard. She ran up to awaken him, but found out that he had gone. She looked into the adjoining room, but he was not there either. Then she said, "That bad boy has set fire to the barn and run off."

By the great exertions of the villagers, the dwelling house was saved from taking fire, though the barn was burnt down. The next day Millenki said to his wife, "Salan, our apprentice, is a wicked boy. He has set fire to our barn and run away. The only resort is to take the money that his uncle gave me in trust for him, and apply it to the building of a new barn. That will serve the boy just right."

His wife replied, "You are correct, husband. If I had him here, I would whip him till he could hardly talk. He is one of the most wicked boys that can be found in this part of Russia, and if I had my way with him he would be put in jail for life. Engage a carpenter right away. Have a new barn, and that bad boy's money shall pay for it."

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