when occasion required, till she justified George's remark, that "Dolly would never be hanged for want of an excuse."

Mrs. Bertrand resolved that this state of things could not last without doing permanent injury to Dolly's character, so she determined to commence to check it at once, no matter what punishment she caused Dolly, or endured herself on account of it.

Some friends of the Bertrands, who lived at a distance, had invited George and Dolly to attend a large croquet party at their house, and Dolly, who was exceedingly fond of the game, was anticipating great enjoyment.

"Now mind, Dolly," said Mrs. Bertrand, "everything upon you must be neat, or I shall not allow you to go." With this warning Mrs. Bertrand left Dolly to prepare her own things; she was quite old enough surely. I am almost ashamed to tell you, but true it is that she was getting on fast towards fourteen.

The auspicious day arrived. The sun was shining right royally, and Dolly was in a state of ecstasy. "You are sure that all your things are nice and tidy?" said Mrs. Bertrand at breakfast-time.

"Oh, yes, mamma," replied the child, with a slightly cloudy expression, "at least I have only a few things to see to."

"What's the precise meaning of few in your vocabulary, Miss Dorothy?" interposed George, who had appeared to be attentively reading the Times.

"Oh, George! how tiresome you are. Why, I've got my gloves to mend, and the bows to sew on my jacket, and my-and-and my frock to mend that's all."

"And quite enough too," said Mrs. Bertrand; more than you'll get through properly, I know." And so Dolly found. She managed to mend her gloves, she cobbled the bows on her jacket, somehow, she disposed of two or three necessary little jobs that she had left out of George's list, and she found she had not a minute to devote to her white muslin frock. Dolly looked at it in an agony. There it lay, staring her in the face, clean, stiff, and half the skirt out of the waist in various places. For desperate diseases, desperate remedies-so, we suppose, Dolly thought, or something like it. The never-failing pins came into requisition, the voluminous skirt-width was doubled over and over till it fitted the vacant niche in the body and there pinned up. George was calling from the bottom of the stairs, "Dolly, we shall be too late for the train." Hurry Miss Draggletail must, and hurry she did, so much so that she was quite red and hot when she stood in the dining-room before her

mamma.

Why, child, how your skirt hangs!' was Mrs. Bertrand's first greeting. "Come here and let me look at you."

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed that lady, "if your skirt is not actually pinned into the waist in three or four places. Dolly, you are incorrigible."

Dorothy Draggletail!" murmured George, in an abstracted voice; then he continued, "Mamma, do you think I am bound to disgrace myself and you by taking that figure to the Langdon's?"

'Certainly not,” replied Mrs. Bertrand, quietly; "Dolly must stay at home."

"Oh, mamma!-oh, George!" sobbed Dolly, "let me go this once, oh, do, mamma! I will be more tidy, I really will, mamma; do let me go."

Mrs. Bertrand and George both looked very sorry and uncomfortable; but they had a duty to perform, and they were determined not to flinch.

"I could not think of taking you," said George, seriously.

"And I could not think of letting you go." So, amidst Dolly's broken-hearted sobs, George went alone.

For some time there was silence in the room,

broken only by the sound of tears. Then Dolly roused herself, and began sullenly taking off her gloves. Mrs. Bertrand thought it time to speak.

"Dolly," said she, " go up-stairs and change your dress, and bring that white muslin down and mend it."

It was a long time before Dolly made her appearance with the dress in her hand. However, she did come, and sat down to her work, now and then heaving a deep sigh.

When it was finished, "Now, said Mrs. Bertrand, "have you any stockings that you have put away unmended?"

"Yes, mamma." "Fetch them."

They, too, were fetched and dispatched. Then it was dinner-time.

After dinner, Mrs. Bertrand said, "Now, Dolly, as you have begun the day so well, I should advise you to get as much mending as possible done. I intended to take you two or three little country trips next week, but you shall not go to one unless you make your clothes sound to go in."

Up-stairs went Dolly, and brought down such a medley of ragged frocks and petticoats and jackets and capes as surely never belonged to one child before. Her mother helped her a great deal, and with her help, I verily believe, all Dolly's numerous rags were mended before tea.

her mamma.

"That is all very well, Dolly," said her mamma;

"but you know the old adage, 'A stitch in time saves nine.' If you were to attend to these things singly, you would never have a heap to mend.”

When George came home he was agreeably surprised to find a cheerful smile on Dolly's face; and he was so astonished at her improved appearance (for she had taken great pains with her hair, and sewn a tucker in her frock) that he requested to know where the particular fairy lived that had taken her in hand, as he wished to propose a vote of thanks

to her.

Dolly found more and more, after that, the value of a "stitch in time;" and when the humorous Dr. Constant sent her a fully-appointed workbox, containing a note addressed to "the veritable Dorothy Draggletail," Dolly no longer deserved the title. She was the tidy, Miss Bertrand, although she kept the note to remind her of the time, as George said, when she was in deed and in truth "Dorothy Draggletail."

"THE QUIVER" BIBLE CLASS. 183. What great men of Gilead displayed royalty to a fugitive king at the risk of their lives and possessions had the usurper been successful?

415

184. Two young men fell victims to a curse, which had been pronounced five centuries previously—a curse which probably their father, who was the cause of the judgment, never knew, or had forgotten.

185. Where is our Lord's first recorded act of intercession?

186. Even in the presence of the Lord Jesus, salvation was voluntary. Show this.

187. Give an instance from the Bible of each of the following characters :-(1) Those who believe in eternity, and live for it; (2) Those who believe in the world, and live for it; (3) Those who believe in eternity, but live for the world.

188. What was the great comfort of David under the realisation of sin?

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS ON PAGE 384. 172. Barzillai (2 Sam. xix. 35). 173. 2 Sam. iv. 4; ix. 7—13; xxi. 7. 174. Sarah's grave (Gen. xxiii. 2). 175. David (1 Sam. xxvii., &c.).

176. Numb. x. 32.

177. Pontius Pilate.

178. Job. Jemima, daylight; Kezia, perfume'; Kerenhappuch, a horn―i.e., plenty (Job xlii. 14). 179. The Queen of eba.

THOUGHT and theory must precede all action that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.

THE climate of Egypt is feverous, and perspiration is necessary to health; hence the Egyptian, meeting you, asks, "How do you perspire?"-" Have you eaten?

Is your stomach in good order ?" asks the Chinaman: a touching solicitude, which can only be appreciated by a nation of gourmands. The travelling Hollander asks you, "How do you go?" The thoughtful, active Swede demands, "Of what do you think?" The Dane, more placid, uses the German expression, Live well?" But the greeting of the Pole is best of all: "Are you happy""

THE people of the East measure time by the length of their shadow. Hence, if you ask a man what o'clock it is, he immediately goes into the sun, stands erect, then, looking where his shadow terminates, he measures his length with his feet, and tells you nearly the time. Thus, workmen earnestly desire the shadow which indicates the time for leaving their work. A person wishing to leave his toil says, "How long my shadow is in coming!" "Why did you not come sooner?"-" Because I waited for my shadow." In Job vii. 2 we find it written, "As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work."

OUR most impatient recollections are of the patience that was not quite patient enough. Like the Esquimaux, we had watched our ice-hole for hours, but turned our back upon it just before the seal came up, taking with us only our numbed toes and fingers for our pains.

ONE of the best things said by the late George Peabody is this, spoken at a reunion at his native town: "It is sometimes hard for one who has devoted the best part of his life to the accumulation of money, to spend it for others; but practise it, and keep on practising it, and I assure you it comes to be a pleasure.”

THE horrible atrocities of the Skopzi, the fanatical sect of Russia, are still exciting the attention of Europe. A Russian paper gives an account of one of their recent exploits. One day a party of 400 of these fanatics left the town of Balatscow and proceeded to a neighbouring wood to pray. The scene witnessed on their return was horrible. A madman named Wasiloff declared that he was Son of God, and, after choosing twelve apostles from the party, called for a human sacrifice. Five victims were selected, placed on a number of wagons which had been piled up for the purpose, and burnt alive. A woman, who had distinguished herself by the violence of her religious paroxysms, seized the shaft

of the cart and beat two young girls to death; while another female was first trodden under foot and then literally torn to pieces by the fanatical crowd. Other details are given of the horrors enacted, which are utterly unfit for publication. The governor of the town heard of the facts and sent a company of soldiers to the spot, where the whole party was arrested and placed in confinement, thus stopping further excesses. It is hardly to be wondered at that the Russian authorities are in perplexity how to deal with the members of this sect.

A GOOD many old maids are like cloves, more pleasantly useful in their present state than if they had blossomed into brides.

THE following letter addressed to the Editor of THE QUIVER, by the Treasurer of the Boys' Home at Regent's Park Road, will, we are sure, be read with interest:

The little boy, William H., whom you mention as an inmate at the Children's Hospital (see QUAVER page 283), having now quite recovered from typhus fever, I have had much pleasure in admitting him into the Boys' Home at Regent's Park Road, where this once destitute, starved, and neglected orphan is now comfortably lodged. Here he be clothed, properly fed and educated, and in time trained to earn his own livelihood in some trade or service. He seems a omising little fellow, and I hope that I may, two or thre, ears hence, be able to report to you that he has fully justified the kindly notice of THE QUIVER, and the valuable care of the Children's Hospital.

MARGATE. During a strong southerly wind and heavy rain on the 14th December, signal guns were heard from the lightship in the Prince's Channel. The Quiver, No. 1 lifeboat, stationed at Margate, was launched, and proceeded across the Margate and Tongue Sands, and up the Channel, and discovered the sloop La Jeune Fanny, of St. Malo, on the Girdler Sands, in a heavy sea. After some difficulty, the lifeboat got alongside and boarded the vessel. Press of canvas was then put on, and the sloop was forced over the bank, the tide rising at the time, and brought safely into Margate. From the position in which the ship lay, she must soon have been broken up, and the crew of five men drowned, had not the lifeboat gone to her aid. She was constantly under water, the sea repeatedly making a com plete breach over her and the lifeboat, and the service of the latter was attended with much danger.

Messrs. Cassell, Petter, and

Galpin (donation)

Heraclius Grey

A Christmas offering from E. and E W., Reading Burton Green, Wellington Lodge, Shoreham,

050

"In remembrance of Miss Ellen A. Hancott"

O 1 7 0 3 0 3 6

J. W. S. M, Manchester
EJ. Arnold, Barnstaple.....
Misses E. and A. Marshall,
1, Florence Villa, New
Road, Shepherd's Bush
"A Mother's Thank offering"
Boys of Ipswich Union School o
T. N. D., Abbey Street,
Bethnal Green

J. Quick, 7 and 8, Queen
Street, Exeter

Miss Lizzie Sadler, Dewsbury
Miss N. K. Turner, Asylumi,
Cottingwood, Morpeth

Miss Agnes Eyre, Babworth
Rectory, East Retford,
Notts

A Reader of THE QUIVER,
Silverdale

Miss Nellie March, Barnes,
S.W.

M. A. Lacy, High Street,
Warwick

༣ 0 I 5 O 5 0

0 4

5

6 O 14

Janet Callander, 16, Nene Parade, Wisbeach...

H. L., 3. Clayland's Terrace, S.W..

Mary M. C., Wallington.... Barrel Department, Enfield Lock, Middlesex

Jane Dodman, Hunstanton... Miss F. Maude E. Craw hall, Alston House, Cumberland

Mrs. J. M'Crie, Broughton Main, by Garliestown, Wigtonshire

E. M. Younge, Forest Side, Grasmere, Windermere. Mrs. Smith, Aycliffe House, Darlington.

A. G., Luton, Bedfordshire Miss C. M. Harding, 45. Prescot Road, Old Swan, near Liverpool

"A Lover of Children," London

Mrs Godwin, Durweston, near Blandford

Miss Godwin, do. do.

Miss E Godwin,

K. E. W., Staveley, near

Chesterfield

C. S. T., Reading

Horne, Wolverhampton

Mrs. Wortham, Hill House,

Uxbridge

H. B. P., Bishop's Stortfor 1 Miss K. Kent, La Hogue

Hall

Miss Alessie Bond, London

I O 6

O 8 6

Miss Low, Leith,

A. W., Hamilton

John Fawdry, 1, Commandy

Street. Worcester

Jane Reed, Lancaster Gate,

W..

C. J. B., East Harptree, Somerset

Emmie, 50, Sanford Road,
Kentish Town

Frances H., London
W Vyle, Leamington
Miss Ballard, 188.

Com

mercial Road, Newport o

K. Boston

W. Whatley, High Street, Cheltenham

E Reid, Nunhead

Leonard Hampson, Wis

beach

2

6

I

8

O 10 O

F. U, Kibworth, Leicester.

J. Armstrong, U. P Church,

Blyth, Sea View

E. Cotterell, 27. Delancey

Street, Regent's Park...

Miss Elizabeth Bridge, 9. Freeling Street, Cale donian Road, N.

Wee Isa, Paisley.

020

030

A Reader of THE QUIVER 0 2 6

S. M. J., Newtown, Mons.

Alfred Millord, 157, South

gate Road, N.

040

20

Mary E. Hopping, Parkhurst 36 A. Minton, Jamaica Road,

Bermondsey

E. C. A.

011 6

The clouds of discontent had long been gathering. The father had been murmuring at the son, the son murmuring at the father, and on the afternoon of the day when the young man left the office abruptly, the storm burst.

At one, regular as clockwork, Mr. Palmer senior stepped over to the house for an hour's rest and his simple midday meal. At this hour, too, he read his morning paper, on the principle which was paramount with him-business first and pleasure afterwards. On this day he appeared at his usual hour, and took to his arm-chair and his newspaper in silence. To judge from his face, however, he did not seem to be deriving much pleasure or amusement from it. A frown contracted his compact and generally clear forehead. There was coming and going in the room while the table was being prepared, and during that time nothing passed between the father and daughters, who were already in the room.

At last the luncheon was served, and the servant left the room. Then Mr. Palmer threw down his paper, and in that tone of irritation which makes the most innocent words smart and gall, asked

"Where is your brother?"

The question was addressed to either, and neither for a moment answered. Patricia lifted her large eyes and remained mute; Anne, as usual, hastened to the rescue.

"Is he not at the works ?" she replied, innocently. Anne was not in her brother's confidence. She was not enough of a partisan to suit her brother and sister. She was unfeignedly astonished at the heat with which her father answered, "No, he is not. Have you seen him to-day ?"

"Yes," said Patricia, slowly. "He breakfasted here as usual, and he only left the house half an hour before you came in."

"To avoid me, I suppose."

"He was complaining of your treatment of him this morning," said Patricia, who never shirked the truth, and was determined to stand up for her absent brother, though she had been ready to denounce him the evening before.

Complaining of me!" burst out her father vehemently. "I think it is I who have reason to complain of him. He idles about all day instead of working like a man, and sneaks into my house at night like a thief. But I will not suffer it. If he will not do my work, he shall find another master; if he will not keep proper hours, he shall not remain in my house. You may tell him this from me, since he keeps out of the way of hearing it."

"What do you mean ?" inquired her father fiercely.

"The work has done him harm," she replied. "Indeed. I did not think he troubled himself with enough of it to harm him."

'No; he dislikes it too much."

"Thinks himself too good for it, perhaps," the old man went on-" thinks it beneath his attention. I should like to know what he is good for! What has he ever done to entitle him to despise honest work? It is my work, too; and in despising it, he is despising me. And for that matter you are all alike. You look down upon the trade which has brought you every comfort and luxury, and are discontented with a lot which thousands and tens of thousands in this

city would envy. Complaining of my treatment! What is it you complain of ?"

“Oh, papa! we are not complaining against you. Do not think us so ungrateful,” cried Anne, intervening once more.

But it was against the current, and her father paid no heed to her. In his anger he would not discriminate; and his anger was all the more passionate that, except his son's default of that morning, there was nothing very tangible in the causes that had led to it.

"Dulness and headaches, dismal faces and heavy sighs, that's what I have to come home to. I was happier dining on a pennyworth of bread and cheese, and sleeping in an attic; and I thought——"

He broke down here for a little-a pathetic breakdown; he was thinking of the bright young faces that had been about him in the childhood of the three, and how he had hoped to see them bright about him to the last, enjoying the fruits of his labour, and rewarding him with thankful love.

It went to Anne's heart, that break in the wrathful voice, and she ventured another remonstrance.

"Do try to understand us better," she pleaded, using the word "us," since their father had blamed them indiscriminately, though she was conscious of not deserving his strictures. She neither shared in Harry's dulness nor in Patricia's headaches and sighs. "Do try and understand us better. Harry is very sorry for being late last night, and as for Patricia and I, we are very happy, only we might be, better for a little more occupation and society." "Occupation! Can't you find occupation?"

"For which nobody cares," she replied. “Would

wanted ?"

"Don't talk nonsense," he answered, not even trying to understand. "Dismiss one of the women. I often wonder what they find to do. There is one