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He listened, and a happy smile

Stole o'er the sick man's face : “I thank you friends; it brings to mind

Another time and place.
“All helpless I as when you found

Me lying in the sun,
A friend came by and saved me then,

Well, just as you have done.
“He saved me from the raging fire,

He saved me from disease,
And for his sake I left my home

Away across the seas. “Your name is Fred, you say; and yours?”

“Rufus,” the old man said. “Perhaps you'd like to hear His name

Who first came to my aid.
“His name was Jesus. Yes, you know

His life for us He gave;
And died for us on Calvary,

That sinners He might save.
“He saves from evil's deadly curse,

Which lights the flames of hell;
He saves us from its punishment,

And from its power as well.
“For we are doubly doomed ; God's law

Condemns us for our sin :
Meanwhile sin's deadly malady

Is raging still within.
“ He takes away the sinner's guilt

That lies upon the soul :
And He removes the malady,

And makes the spirit whole.
“Why was I safe when me you placed

Upon the spot burnt bare ?" “Why,” cried the trapper, “just because

There was no fuel there.
“'Twas burnt already. When the flames

In billows past us rolled,
There was not there a single blade

Where fire could get a hold.”

“'Tis even so, my soul is safe

In Jesus crucified ;
Because the flames swept Calvary

They there can be defied.
" The fires of justice and of wrath

Against our human sin,
Can never touch the Christ again,

Nor those that are within. “Once did they rage there in their might,

But now can come no more :
They pass us by, we only hear

The fiery tempest's roar.” Why,” said the trapper, “this beats all ;

I'd rather go to church ;
I half wish now we'd gone away

And left you in the lurch.
“ Just go to sleep, my friend," he said ;

“I don't believe that talk
Is good for you. Fred, keep your watch,

I'll go and have a walk.”
The missionary held his peace,

He said no more that day ;
The next he said, “Rufus, perhaps

You'd like to go away,
“And take just for an hour or so

A walk across the plain,
Because I'm going now to speak

Of Jesus Christ again ?” “Speak on, my mate, but not too much;

I do not feel alarm
On my account, but you still weak

May do yourself some harm."
He spoke again of Jesus Christ,

And of His goodness told ;
Then turning to the trapper said,

“Friend, you are growing old ;
“And can't live very long on earth,

Not very long at best,
And some place then your soul will need

Of refuge and of rest.

“ That's all. Now you may take your walk,
· I've nothing more to say."
Nor said he more of Christ on that

Or any after day,
Until he left the place where he

Had health and safety found,
When just about to part from us

He gently turned around,
And looking back, “Not thus I quit

The refuge of my soul,
Nor will He ever leave me who

Hath made my spirit whole.
“ Fred and friend Rufus, different ways

We take across the plain ;
There's one way yonder (pointing up);

Say, shall we meet again ?"
He waved his hand, we parted then,

For different regions bound;
He for the Indian settlement,

We for our hunting ground.
That night as we lay down to sleep,

The trapper turned, “Friend Fred,
Tell me some sinner's prayer to God,"

The old man softly said.
“ The Lord's prayer when a little child

Was one I used to know,
But I've forgot it and the rest,

It is so long ago.
So long ago since any prayer

Fell from these lips of mine,
That now, when I would like to pray,

I do not know a line."
I told him of the publican

Who was from sin set free,
And that his prayer was this, “O God,

Be merciful to me."
That is how sinners need to pray,

For here's another prayer :
'Tis in the Psalms, the cry of one

Entangled in sin's snare :

“After Thy loving-kindness, Lord,

Have mercy upon me;
For Thy compassion's great; blot out

All mine iniquity."
I heard him muttering words of prayer

Far on into the night;
I heard him when the daybreak came,

Amid the morning light,
Asking for mercy of the Lord,

And pardon of his sin ;
And praying that although so late

The Lord would take him in.
For days 'twas thus with him, and oft

His ways and words were strange ;
He seemed to cherish but one thought-

At last there came a change.
He bade me teach him hymns and psalms,

And then all day he sung;
And there was gladness in his voice,

As he again were young.
The season passed, we were to part ;

I found that he was bent
On travelling westward till he reached

The Indian settlement.
“I wish to go," the old man said,

“ The missioner to see ;
I wish to tell him that his Friend

Hath saved and rescued me.
“Our paths are different upon earth,

As up and down we roam ;
But Fred, my lad, there's but one path,

One path that leads us home."
He raised his voice and cried “Farewell,”

And then I heard him sing,
In clear full notes, a hymn of praise,

That made the forest ring.
'Twas of Jerusalem his home,

The hymn he loved the best ; I listened till the music died

In silence in the West.

Still seemed there echo of his words,

Although the man was gone :
Our paths on earth are manifold,

The path to heaven is one.
I know it now—that way is Christ;

I hardly knew it then,
Save by the hearing of the ear,

The words of other men.
O, friend, who hath my story read,

Believe this word is true,
There is no one but that same Christ

Can save and ransom you.
Pray unto Him the sinner's prayer

And He your soul will bless,
And clothe it with the glorious robe

Of his pure righteousness.
Ask Him for pardon of your sin,

Ask for the Spirit's aid,
To tread the heavenward path, trust Him,

And do not be afraid.

For He will lead you in the way

Where all the ransom'd go,
And in the fountain of His blood
Will wash you white as snow.

Author of 'Little Will,' &c.

No Spending Money.
VOOR John Brunton had always been in the habit of

looking at the dark side of things, and he was
now in great trouble.

After forty years' faithful service with the same master, he had been thrown out of work. Mr. Pollard, whom he had served so long, was an upholsterer, and John had been his foreman.

This is how it happened that John was out of employment. Mr. Pollard had retired from business. Before retiring, however, he had given John the first offer of it,

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