spend it on her own or her children's backs in smart clothing.

'Mother," one of her little girls said to her, one day, "why don't sister and I have a pretty wreath of flowers round our hats, like Mary Stone and her sister? they do look so nice in them. Can't you give us some, too?"

"They won't make your hats wear longer, child, will they?" said Mrs. Smith; "and they'd cost as much as would buy your dear brother Willie the books he's always craving for; and which would do most good, I wonder? No, I always have said my children shan't go about with smart dirty finery, as long as I can stop them. It is neatness, not smartness, I'd like to give them a taste for. Hats that will keep in shape and cover your head sensibly are best, my dear. Just you leave fine flowers for ladies, and feathers for those who can afford them."

In the question of light, Mrs. Smith had lately been getting up a surprise for her family, which she intended to bring forth first on New Year's eve; and this was a paraffine lamp, to take the place of the candles which hitherto they had always used. Not a word had she said of this to any one; but when supper was placed on the table, and a regular New Year's supper it was,-for her mother had sent her a parcel from the country, with all kinds of good things,—then she brought in and placed in the middle a neat lamp with a blue stem and a starred ground-glass shade. Its light seemed to brighten

up the whole room, and caused the children to clap their hands with joy.

"Oh, mother," said Willie, "isn't it nice? I can see to read without moving my chair. I hope you'll never go back to candles again."

Yes, all felt the cheering influence of a welllighted room, and it seemed quite to exhilarate the spirits of the party. Smith thanked his wife heartily for her present, and said, for fear grief should come to it, he wouldn't go to bed till he had put up a small shelf for the lamp to stand on when not in use; for now he could never bear to think of going back to candles again, he was sure.

the

It had taken Mrs. Smith some time to save up money for the lamp, for it was one of the best of its kind, and cost her five-and-sixpence; but this outlay once made, she knew well enough would soon be redeemed out of the saving she would make in candles; the oil costing her just one half the sum the two candles she burnt nightly did, whilst the lamp gave just double their light, besides being an ornament to the room. All that was required, she had been told where she purchased it, was great care, both in trimming it and in keeping it clean. When Willie heard this, he begged his mother to let him have the charge of the lamp.

"You know if you give it to me, I can clean it nicely, every morning, mother," he said, "as I need never hurry. I shall feel, too, as if I was doing something to help you."

4 !

To this proposition his mother agreed, and the next morning carefully instructed him in his task, which afterwards he performed so punctually and carefully, that the lamp was never found to get out of order.

CHAPTER II.

"Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy."

IT was Saturday night, after the addition to the Smiths' home comforts, named in the last chapter, and the family were sitting around the table, rejoicing in the light the lamp threw out;-Mrs. Smith, with her basket of work before her, mending her husband's stockings; poor Willie knitting, for his mother had taught him thus to employ his time, and the occupation relieved many a weary hour; the little girls at plain sewing, whilst Smith was reading aloud to the party, when there came a knock at the door; and Mrs. Brown came in, looking untidy and hurried, with her sleeves tucked up, and her hair hanging loose from under her cap. She stopped, however, just inside the door, as if quite taken aback at the sight of such a happy domestic party, and by the bright, cheerful look of the room.

"Well, I never!" she exclaimed, "if you don't live just like gentlefolks, every bit of it. Why

what a pretty penny that lamp must have cost, to begin with."

Mrs. Smith laid down her work and invited her neighbour to walk in and sit down, and Smith rose and put a chair for her, but Mrs. Brown said, in reply, that she couldn't wait a minute, for she was hard driven for time; "The fact is," she said, "I called, Mrs. Smith, to know if you'd just lend me a piece of soap for once, for I haven't got any, and I have got to get through a large wash this very night, I have."

Mrs. Smith stepped across the room, and opening her cupboard, she took from the bottom shelf a piece of nice hard yellow soap; one of six similar ones that lay there, and handing it to her neighbour, told her she was quite welcome to it; but, as she gave it she said, in a gentle tone, "I fear, Mrs. Brown, your husband will have a sorry time of it to-morrow if you begin to wash this time of night!"

"Beggars can't be choosers," said Mrs. Brown. "We didn't get the coals until this afternoon, and I hadn't time besides to begin before; besides, if I wash and wring out the things to-night, maybe I'll get a quiet time for ironing them up to-morrow."

"Oh! but that's breaking the Sabbath, you know," quietly returned Mrs. Smith; "besides, don't you think it's enough to drive any man from his home to the ale-house, to have to sit all Sunday long with wet clothes hanging and flopping all round the room? Why can't you wait until Monday ?"