after Effie had washed up and tidied the place, and found that her father did not take down his pipe, nor show any intention of sauntering into the streets, she said, timidly, "Father, please will you hear me read? There is to be a prize for reading next examination, and Miss Merton thinks may win it if I try."

I

Brook smiled, and so Effie, taking out her little Testament, sat down on a low stool at his feet, and, nestling one hand into his, read the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke.

The day passed on, and it grew time for Sunday-school; and when she returned, hand in hand with her teacher (which she usually did, as their homes lay in the same direction), Miss Merton accompanied her up the creaky staircase.

This time her father did not, as usual, slink away, but, with something of his old politeness, bade her welcome, and thanked her for the interest she had taken in his little daughter; and Effie actually found courage to ask her to take a cup of tea. She knew the fare was poor and the tea-things cracked, but she had taken good care that they were clean, and Miss Merton had had too much of a Christian lady's experience in poor and sinful homes to be shocked at the repast.

"It is a poor place, madam, for such as you," said Brook. "It is not too poor for our Lord to visit," replied Miss Merton ; and I am tired, and shall be thankful for a little refreshment."

66

The evening bells began before tea was over, and Effie quietly slipped away to church; but Miss Merton gave up her evening service that night to do her Master's work in a garret. She was a true Christian; and, without anything like "preaching," she found means to unlock the heart of Edward Brook, and give comfort to a soul that was struggling to find its way to God and happiness and heaven.

Above all did she try to raise him from the waters of despair; and, instead of letting him look too much upon himself, and his own sins, she taught him to look upon the "Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world," "who was dead and is alive again ;" and when Effie returned

there was a light in her father's eyes that told her he had learned to hope again. Not once during that month did his foot cross the threshold of the ale-house: he worked hard and well, as he could do if he liked, and, to strengthen his good resolutions, he was told one Saturday that the foreman had given notice, and that he might have his place so long as he kept sober.

The following Sunday morning Brook appeared in church, leading Effie by the hand; and she said it was as if Christ Himself came to meet him, for the sermon was preached from that verse, "Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out."

From that time Edward Brook set out on the hard upward path in right good earnest. He became once more a trustworthy and respected workman; and soon Nag's Rents, and all its foul associations, became a memory of the past.

Little Dot.

THE SIMPLE MADE WISE.

CHAPTER VIII. THE FADING DAISY.

HE autumn came on very early that year. There were cold east winds, which swept amongst the trees of the cemetery, and scattered their leaves on the ground. Then there were thick mists and drizzling rains, and each morning and evening the dew fell heavily on the grass. And now and then there was a slight frost, which nipped the geraniums and the fuchsias and all the flowers which had been so bright through the summer. It grew very damp and chilly in the was still in her place at Solomon's side.

cemetery, but Dot She was very pale

and thin, he thought; and he fancied she shivered sometimes as she stood on the damp grass.

He would wrap her

up in his old great-coat very tenderly, as she sat on the cold stone near him, and he would tell her to run about to warm herself many times in the day.

But Dot was not so fond of running about as she used to be. She had been very tired lately, and she would soon come back to him, and stand beside him at his work, talking to him in her pretty childish way. He liked to hear her talk, and he was never dull when she was with him. She had taught him her little prayer, and old Solomon could say it as well as she could. As for Dot, it was seldom out of her thoughts, and Solomon often found her kneeling amongst the trees of the cemetery, and "asking the dear Lord Jesus," as she called praying.

But Dot's mother often sent for her in, for she noticed that her child was not well. She had a tiresome little cough, which often kept her awake by night, and distressed old Solomon by day. He walked into the town, poor old man, on purpose to buy her some lozenges, which he heard had cured a neighbour of his. He thought they might make his little dear's cold well.

But Dot's cough still continued, and grew worse instead of better. At last her father took her to a doctor, and he gave her some medicine, and said she must be kept warm. So Dot's mother kept her at home, and she could only kiss her hand to Mr. Solomon as he passed the window to his work. He came to see her in the evenings, for she fretted so much for him that her mother invited him to come as often as he could.

"Mr. Solemn," she said one day, "I know all about it now." "About what, my dear?" asked the old man.

"About my little girl, and heaven, and Jesus, Mr. Solemn; has He washed you, Mr. Solemn ?"

"I don't know, my dear," said Solomon.

"'Cause you can't go to heaven if He doesn't, Mr. Solemn."

"No, I suppose not," said the old man. "There's a many things in me as ought to be different-I know that, Dot."

"You will say my little prayer, won't you, Mr. Solemn ?" said Dot.

"Yes, Dot, I will," said the old man ; I will."

"God helping me,

She was teaching him many lessons, was this little child; and now that he saw her slipping away from his sight, each day growing more thin and pale, he felt as if his heart would break.

Violet and Ethel, and their papa and mamma, often came to see Dot, and brought her tempting things to eat, jellies, and grapes, and cooling drinks.

Dot was very pleased to see them, and would look out of the window for their coming for hours together.

But the flower was fading very quickly. Dot was taken suddenly worse, and even her mother knew that her little girl would not be long with her. She was very tender to Dot now; she would hold her little girl in her arms for hours together, for Dot was very weary, and liked to lie quite still, with her head on her mother's shoulder. And, at length, there came a long, sorrowful day, when Dot's father stayed away from work, and Dot's mother sat all day beside the little bed, which they had brought down for the child to lie upon.

It was evening, and little Dot was sinking fast. She had scarcely spoken all day, except to murmur her little prayer; but now old Solomon had come in, after his day's work, and was sitting beside her, holding her tiny hand in his. She opened her eyes, and smiled at him.

"Mr. Solemn," she asked, "have you said it?" "Said what, my dear?" replied the old man.

"My little prayer, Mr. Solemn.”

"Yes, my dear; yes, Dot; I've said it many a time, and, what's more, my dear, I'm an old sinner, but I do believe the Lord's heard me, and done it for me; I do believe He has."

"I'm so glad," said little Dot; and she smiled as she said it.

He stayed with her till it was quite late, and, when he was coming away, she said, wearily :

"I'm so tired, Mr. Solemn."

"Are you, my dear?" said the old man.

"Please, Mr. Solemn, say my little prayer for me to-night."

Solomon knelt down by the side of the bed. Dot's father and mother knelt beside him, and little Dot clasped her hands and shut her eyes, whilst the old man prayed in a trembling voice :

"Lord, dear Lord, wash us all to-night, and we shall be whiter than snow. Wash me, and little Dot, and Dot's father and mother, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen."

Then he kissed Dot, and came away with a troubled heart.

The next morning, as he went to his work, he heard that his little girl was dead. "What! my little darling," said the old man, "my little darling gone!"

CHAPTER IX.-OLD SOLOMON'S HOPE.

He

There was a little grave to be dug that day, and it was the hardest task old Solomon ever had. The earth seemed to him as heavy as lead that morning; and many a time he stopped and moaned, as if he could work no more. sometimes looked up, as if he half expected to see his little Dot standing at the top of the grave. He almost thought he heard her merry laugh, and her dear little voice saying, "Won't you say my little prayer, Mr. Solemn ?"

But this was his little Dot's grave, and she was dead. It could not be true; oh, it could not be true!

But, as the old man toiled on, a happier thought stole into his old soul, and he thought he saw his little Dot, dressed in white, and walking with the angels, near the dear Lord, in the home above the blue sky. And it did old Solomon good to think of this.

The grave was close to Lilian's; side by side they were to lie, for so Lilian's father had ordered it. For he loved little Dot for the care she had taken of his child's grave.

It was the day of the funeral-little Dot's funeral. Old