THE MOTHER'S PRAYER. eard her, for my mother constantly sent me with ittle comforts to her poor neighbours, and one thing truck me as very strange in her prayers. Whoever Nanny was with, young or old, and whatver their sorrow might be, she never ended without ouring out a few sentences from her very heart for a lad who wasn't at home." Wherever she was, here I always heard the same petition. My curiosity was roused, and one day I asked my mother about it. "Well, you see, my child," she replied; "James and Nanny Keen had another son once, whom you cannot remember; indeed, now I come to think of it, he went away before you were born." "Why did he go away; was he not good?" "Yes, as a rule he was good, but David was naturally more full of fun and less obedient than his brother. He was apprenticed to Mr. Green the tailor, and one day, when he was eighteen years old, he did something which grieved his father very much. Old James was angry, and when David came in that evening he struck him. David did not resist his father as he might have done, for he was a strong young fellow, and the next morning he rose at his usual time and went, as his father and mother supposed, to his work, but afterwards it turned out he had gone right away. That is twentyfive years ago, and every one else believes he is drowned, but the poor old woman cannot forget her boy, so she always prays for him, though she has never heard of him since." Well, years went by; James and Nanny grew feeble, and one sharp frosty winter's night the old man quietly passed away. Young James, as he was still called, though now he was fully middle-aged, had years ago married and taken a cottage near his workshed. Before he left his father's house he had neatly refurnished his bedroom, and given the things as a parting gift to his mother, so that she was frequently able to let the room for a few nights, and even sometimes for weeks to visitors. One very hot day in summer, a lady and gentleman were seen coming down the field towards the cottage. I happened to be there and stood at the door watching them. I said, Here come some more lodgers, Nanny." "Eh, joy!" she replied; "maybe, but I doubt they are only going past. However, anyhow, the Lord'll provide." But Nanny was wrong, for the gentleman stooped down, unlatched the garden-gate, and the two strangers came towards us. "Does one James Keen live hereabouts?" he asked. I replied that he once did, but that he had been dead some time. Then he asked if old Nanny was living, and Sarah and James and Mary, their children. The daughter, who had joined us, replied: "I am Mary; James and Sarah are married and live in the village." He did not seem to listen to her, and never removed his eyes from old Nanny's face; she looked up at him, and said, "I am Nanny Keen." "But had you not another son called David ?" "Yes, but he went away when he was a lad, and he has never been heard tell of since." Her hands shook as she held her knitting-needles, and her voice trembled, too, as she added: "But I pray for him always. Yes, I always pray for him." Mother! I am your son David." He spoke too suddenly after all, for the old 285 woman fell back insensible; and for hours Mary wept as we tended her, for it seemed as though life could not bear the shock. Slowly, however, she recovered. "Miss! oh, miss!" said Mary, as on the following morning she pointed to old Nanny, with a radiant face, her withered hand clasped in her son's as they sat together on the garden bench; "she loved him so! You see how it was mother prayed for him all those years when he wasn't at home-she loved him so!" All the villagers wanted to know where David had been, and soon we were told. He left with a heart burning with anger, and made his way to London, and there he had remained the whole of the time. He fortunately soon met with employment, and had remained with the same firm ever since, and by dint of energy and perseverance he had risen to the post of foreman in the establishment. The Crimean War broke out, and a lady of rank wanted a large number of woollen stockings knitted for some of the poor soldiers who were fighting and dying miserably neglected in those snowy trenches. She ordered them at the shop where David was the manager, and like a stab to his heart came the remembrance of those his mother used to knit him when he was a boy. Again he saw the nimble fingers, again he heard the low click of the shining needles. "Perhaps she would be glad to knit some still," he thought, "anyhow several hundreds of pairs were to be supplied, and why should not his native village be made busy, and the neighbours of 'Auld lang syne' do the work?" David went to his home that night with a more boyish heart than he had carried for many a day. He told his wife the story, and together the next day, they journeyed to his mother, happily not too late, and so came the answer to old Nanny's unwearying prayer "for the lad who was not at home." Not Unseen. "WASTING its sweetness on the desert air,” So men who seldom see that flower say; Its petals open to the rising sun, When the creation of the world was done, Or who enjoys those many lovely wastes, Talk not of waste in anything God made! Things hid from man have higher honour given, God sees them ever, humble though they be, From His own heaven. A. F. T. Pages for the young. LITTLE FAITH; OR, THE CHILD OF THE TOY-STALL. BY MRS. WALTON, AUTHOR OF UP and down the streets, up and down the streets, hour after hour, little Faith wandered, first asking at one shop, and then at another. Sometimes she would venture to stop the passers-by, and enquire of them. She would choose some one whose face looked kind and motherly, and put the same question again and again: "Could you tell me of any one as wants a little servant, please?" But she got nothing but discouragement, the whole day long. One told her that she was too small; another that she was too delicate; another brought tears to her eyes by telling her to go home to her mother; one or two laughed at her, and not a few were angry with her. And so the day wore away. It was getting near evening, and was beginning to grow dark. Faith had asked her question hopefully and eagerly in the morning; but now, she asked it in quite a different voice and as if she hardly expected an encouraging answer. She was very tired, and sad, and disappointed. Her Friend had not helped her, she thought. She had taken it to the Lord in prayer, but no answer had come. Mother Mary had said it was wicked to doubt, but how could she help doubting, when God did not seem to hear her? She was very footsore and tired, so she sat down on a doorstep to rest. She wondered very much what Mrs. Gubbins had said, when she found she was gone; and whether her father missed her very much; she wondered whether he was looking for her all over that great town. And then Faith remembed that it was Saturday night, and that her father would be at his place at the stall. She wondered how far the market-place was from where she was sitting. She had a great longing just to see her father for a minute. She did not want him to see her, that would never do! No, she would never go home again, till she had found a little place, and was earning money for herself. But what she wanted was to try to get a peep at her father, to see if he looked sorrowful, or tired, or as if he was missing her very much. Faith got up from the doorstep, and asked a girl who was passing which was the way to the market-place. The girl directed her, and to Faith's joy she found it was close by. In a few minutes, she came in sight of the great church underneath the shadow of which stood John Robinson's stall. The street was very crowded; there was always a very full market on Saturday night. People were buying in their stores for the week, and were going in and out of the different shops in the market-place, with large baskets on their arms. All was bustle, and hurry, and confusion. Faith threaded her way through the crowd, and went com a little side-street which led into the market-place, and which ran along the side of the old church. She crept along che to the railings of the church, till she came nearly to the endef the street; but she did not dare to go further, lest her father should see her. She could see the top of the stall from whe she stood, but she could not see her father. She did not to go round the corner, for that would have brought her close up to the stall, and he would have seen her at once. Faith had nearly made up her mind to go back again, when she noticed that the church gate was open. She was almest afraid to go inside, but at last she ventured. In front of her was a porch leading into the church, and in this porch she sw that there was a window looking in the direction of the stail, through which she would be able to see her father, without his seeing her. So she ran quickly across the open piece of churc yard, and got inside the porch. Then she looked out of the window. John Robinson's stal was not more than thirty yards away. She could see him quite well, surrounded as he was by flaring naphtha ligit: but he could not see her at all in the darkness and shadow of the church porch. This was just what little Faith wanted. She stood there for a long time watching him. He looked very sad, she thought, and very tired. Nobody seemed to be buying anything, and she longed to run across the road, and spend her penny at the stall. If only she could be somebody else, for just one moment, and run across and buy a penny toy, that he might have one more penny to take home to Mrs. Gubbins! What would Mrs. Gubbins say if he brought her nothing home to-night? Well, there would be one mouth the less to feed; that was a comfort; she could not blame him any more for giving the children's bread to her. How anxiously Faith watched for customers to the stall. and how glad she was when at last an old man stopped, aul bought one of the best sixpenny pipes. But her father did not seem half as glad as she thought he would have been. He put the money in his pocket, but be did not look a bit pleased. He did not seem to be thinking much about it. All the time the old man was there, al the time he was showing off his wares, all the time he was waiting for purchasers, he was gazing up and down the street. first this way and then that way, as if he were looking for some one. "Can he be looking for me?" said Faith to herself. "Oh, I hope he doesn't miss me so much. P'raps I oughtn't never to have run away, but ought to have stopped with him, and cheered him up. But I did it all for him. Mrs. Gubbins goes on at him so about me! Oh, dear, oh, dear; I hope he isn't very unhappy!" There was a low stone seat on each side of the church porch, and Faith sat down on this, and hid her face in her hands and cried. She was very tired and disheartened. Once she thought she would go out, and go back to her father, but then she did not dare to go back to Mrs. Gubbins again, till she had found a situation for herself. No, she could not do that. But night was coming on, and where should she sleep? She would be very frightened indeed, if she had to be out alone in the street all night! What could she do? Should she pray again? She thought she would. Perhaps, if she asked the Lord Jesus again to help her, He would hear her. She could not understand why He had not heard her before. It was very strange! But she would try once more. She would tell Him how tired and lonely she was, and how much she was afraid of being out in the street all night. Perhaps, when He saw how very unhappy she was, He would tell her where to go. Faith was just going to kneel down, when she heard the sound of singing inside the church. She put her ear to the door, and listened. LITTLE FAITH; OR, THE CHILD OF THE TOY-STALL. Faith thought she had never heard such a beautiful tune. he opened the door just a little crack, that she might, if ossible, hear the words, and then she peeped in. To her astonishment, she could not see any one in the church. One or two of the gas-lamps were lighted, and she could see he great stone pillars, and the high arches, and long aisles of he old church, but she could not see a single man or woman child. There were a great many pews, but they were all mpty; and there was a high pulpit, but there was no one tanding in it. She opened the door a little wider and went n. There did not seem to be any one in the old church but herself. Where could the singing have come from? Faith walked a few steps farther into the church, and then| she stopped again. She felt rather afraid at the sound of her eet upon the stone pavement. The singing had stopped, but presently she heard the voice of some one reading aloud. The voice seemed to come from the other side of the church. After waiting for some minutes, Faith walked on tip-toe in that direction. She wanted very much to know from whence the sound came. Presently, she saw a door in that part of the church open, 1s and an old man looked out, to see who was walking about in the church. He caught sight of Faith, and came towards her. She felt very much inclined to run away; she was afraid he would be angry with her for coming into the church. But the old man did not look cross or vexed, but smiled at her as he came up, so Faith settled not to run away. When the old man was close to her, he asked her, in a whisper, what she wanted. "Please, sir," said Faith, "I wanted to hear 'em sing; they was a singing so beautifully when I was outside there; but I couldn't find nobody!" "They're all in the vestry," said the old verger; "it's prayer 287 Little Faith was very tired and sleepy. She sat in the corner by the old verger, and he kept nodding kindly to her, but the warmth and comfort of the room, after her bad night, and after the cold and fatigue of the day made her eyes very heavy. Presently as the minister was reading again she fell asleep. She had not been asleep more than a minute or two when she was wakened up suddenly by hearing her own name. She had been dreaming of Mother Mary, and thought she was sitting beside Mother Mary's bed, as she had done for so many days and nights before she died, and then she thought some one asked her a question, and this question awoke her: "Little Faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ?" She started up and opened her eyes, but Mother Mary was not there! Faith found herself in the vestry, on the seat beside the old man, and he looked very surprised to see her jump up so suddenly. And yet she felt quite sure that she had really heard a voice asking her that question; yes, and she felt quite sure that it was the same voice which was reading now! It was the minister who had said: "Little Faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ?" How could he know about her? Who could have told him that her name was little Faith? How did he know that she had been praying and had not got an answer to her prayer, and was beginning to doubt? Jesus must have told him; she felt sure of that; nobody else knew. The minister did not say anything more about her. She listened very attentively now, but he did not mention her name again. He was reading about a ship, and the wind ceasing, and the ship getting to land. It was very strange that he should have stopped in the middle to speak to her! But little Faith felt she had got a message from Heaven. Jesus must have told him to ask her that question; He was very sorry she had doubted Him, and had told the minister to tell her so. Faith said to herself that she would never doubt any more. She was quite sure now that she would have an answer to her prayer, very soon indeed. Her Friend had heard her after all, and was going to help her. She felt quite glad and happy, and as if a great weight had been taken off her heart. meeting night. It's always prayer-meeting of a Saturday night. You'll have to sit very still if I let you come in." "Will they let me in?" said Faith, in a faltering voice; "won't they be cross if I go?" "Oh, no," said the man; "not if I takes you, bairn, and if you're a good girl. Come along, you can sit on the seat by me." So he gave Faith his hand, and took her into the vestry. The vestry was nearly full. There were about thirty people present, sitting in rows, and the minister was standing in front of them, reading a chapter out of the Bible. Then they knelt down and prayed. SCRIPTURE ENIGMA. NO. XI. Two-the types of Israel's blessing, From the following names discern, 1. First, a widow newly mated Who from Moab's land had come 2. Then, beside the Nile's blue water, 3. Next, a sable queen, whose servant, Travelling to his native land, 4. Now we search and find another, And her son the unction brings 5. Now, a captive Jewish maiden, With imperial honours laden; The proud Haman's fall achieved, 6. One, the Jewish forms obeying, Who attended to the word Which, with opened heart, she heard. 7. Next, a farmer's wife appearing- He was foolish; she was wise, 8. Next, a beauteous woman speaking, While her widowed heart was breaking: "Mara now my name should be: Bitter is the name for me!" 9. Then, a prophet-woman singing: 10. Then, in later days, another, 11. Then in Herod's reign, another, 12. Othniel's wife, and Caleb's daughter Next, who asked for springs of water, (For her land no verdure drest), And he granted her request. 13. Last, a dame of wondrous knowledge Dwelling in the sacred college, When Josiah sought to know Now, th' initials laid together, They deserve the foremost place, BIBLE QUESTIONS. NO. V. ON THE LIFE AND TIMES OF JOSHUA. 1. Mention any remarkable miracle recorded in connection with one of Joshua's greatest victories. Where is it afterwards referred to in the Bible? 2. "Put your feet on the necks of these kings." What promise does this remind us of which is made to each believer in Jesus? 3. Where have we a summary of the work accomplished by the victorious arms of Joshua, and God's own account of the secret of the enemy's weakness? 4. Was the land entirely possessed in his day? What portions remained to be conquered? 5. How was the land divided among the tribes? 6. What portion was assigned to the two faithful spies? Had this been promised? 7. Six cities were called cities of refuge. Which were they? Explain the object of them. 8. Can you find any passages in the Old or New Testaments which may help us to understand how these cities had a typical character? 9. Which tribes had their inheritance east of the Jordan? What condition was made when it was assigned as their portion? XI XII X. VIII IX ΠΙΛ ་ Let our readers take the word HEART for their next exercise. |