Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Frank Netherton
 Brighter days
 The cousins
 School trials
 Blessed are the peacemakers
 A Sabbath day at school
 Love your enemies
 A sad holiday
 Good resolutions
 The talisman
 There is no place like home
 The chamber of anger
 Heart sins
 Missionary thoughts
 God knows everything
 A time of trial
 The confession
 Sunshine after storm
 The mystery explained
 Better than a prize
 Home for the holidays
 The end
 Back Cover

Title: Frank Netherton, or, The talisman
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002149/00001
 Material Information
Title: Frank Netherton, or, The talisman
Alternate Title: Talisman
Physical Description: 234 p., <5> leaves of plates : ill. ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Kidder, Daniel P ( Daniel Parish ), 1815-1891
Longking, Joseph ( Printer )
Lane & Scott ( Publisher )
Publisher: Lane & Scott
Place of Publication: New York
Manufacturer: Joseph Longking
Publication Date: 1852
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Truthfulness and falsehood -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Forgiveness -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Courage -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Cousins -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
School stories -- 1852   ( local )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Bookplates (Provenance) -- 1852   ( rbprov )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: School stories   ( local )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Bookplates (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: revised by Daniel P. Kidder.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002149
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002229953
oclc - 08116944
notis - ALH0293
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Table of Contents
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Frank Netherton
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
    Brighter days
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    The cousins
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
    School trials
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
    Blessed are the peacemakers
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    A Sabbath day at school
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
    Love your enemies
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
    A sad holiday
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
    Good resolutions
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
    The talisman
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
    There is no place like home
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
    The chamber of anger
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
    Heart sins
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
    Missionary thoughts
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
    God knows everything
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
    A time of trial
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
    The confession
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
    Sunshine after storm
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Pages 180-181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
    The mystery explained
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
    Better than a prize
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
    Home for the holidays
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
    The end
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

This book belongs to
Lt. Col. Walter Merriam Pratt
Boston, U. S. A.
Poor accountants are often good book keepers.
Please return this book.








Netzn ork:


FRANK NETHERTON ........................ ............ .... 7
RIO TER DAYS................................................ 15
THE COUSINS. ................... .............................. 24
FRAMK LEAVES HOME .................. ................ 34
SCHOOL TRIALS................ ................................ 42
BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS .......................... 51
A SABBATH DAY AT SCHOOL................................. 61
LOVE YO*R ENEMIES................................ ....... 70
A SAD HOLIDAY... ................. .................... 80
GOOD RESOLUTIONS ........................................... 88
THE TALISMAN. ........... .... ..................... .......... 97
THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME........................... 105
MISSIONARIES.... ............................... ... ...... 113
THE CHAMBER OF ANGER .................................... 122
HEART SINS......... ..... .... ........................ ....... 131
MISSIONARY THOUGHTS ................................... 142
GOD KNOWS EVERYTHING ................................ 150
A TIME OF TRIAL.................... ...................... 159
THE CONFESSION ........................................... 168
SUNSHINE AFTER STORM ............ ......... .......... 177
RETRIBUTION......................................... .. 186
THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED......................... ....... 195
BETTER THAN A PRIZE..................................... 207
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS................................. 215
THE END............................. ............. ................ 227


THE mother of Frank Netherton died at his
birth, and from that time his father would
scarcely suffer him to be out of his sight.
No one thought that the infant would live;
but God, who tempers the wind to the shorn
limb, took care of the little motherless boy,
and raised him up to be a comfort to his
surviving parent. Frank was never so
happy as when seated on his little stool at
his father's feet, learning something new,"
as he termed it; or listening to the wonder-
ful histories of foreign lands which his fa-
ther'used to narrate.
When Frank was six years old he knew
more than most boys of ten or twelve, and
was so quick and diligent that it was a plea-


sure to teach him. Many people observed,
and with truth, that he understood almost
too much for his age; and that he often sat
poring over his book when he ought to have
been playing about in the green fields. That
might have been partly the reason why he
was not strong and healthy like other chil-
dren, but used often to come and rest his
weary head against his father's knee, and
ask him to repeat the story of the child who
went out to his father among the reapers,
and said to him all on a sudden, "My head!
my head !" and was borne home to his mo-
ther and died, and was raised again by the
power of God. Frank liked all the Old
Testament histories, but this was his favorite
at such times, and he never grew tired of
hearing it.
Mr. Netherton was a man of studious and
retired habits. After the death of his wife,
whom he tenderly loved, he cared less than
ever for society, and wholly devoted him-
self to his books and the education of his
little son. But his health rapidly declined ;
so rapidly of late that the old housekeeper,
who had lived in the family for many years,


and was much attached to her master,
thought it her duty to write to his sister,
the only relative he had in the world, and
confide to her her fears for the result.
Mrs. Mortimer set off immediately on re-
ceiving the letter, and arrived at the Grange
quite unexpectedly, and much to the sur-
prise of every one but the faithful domestic
before mentioned. The brother and sister
had not met since the death of his wife. She
had been opposed to their marriage; but all
unkind feeling on both sides was buried in
the grave, and Mrs. Mortimer embraced her
little nephew with almost maternal affection.
He is very like you, William," said she,
looking at her brother with the tears in her
eyes. "But how short for his age! Why,
my Frederick, who is only a year older, is
above a head and shoulders taller. And
how pale he is! I am afraid that he does
not take exercise enough. William, you
are killing this boy by inches."
My dear sister!" exclaimed Mr. Nether-
ton. But he is not ill. You are not ill,
Frank, are you?" and he trembled as he
took the boy's little thin hand in his.



"No, papa; my head does not ache to-day'
"Go away, child," said Mrs. Mortimer.
"Go into the garden and amuse yourself."
Frank immediately obeyed her; but he
took his book with him, and sat down under
the trees to read it.
You are killing the boy, I tell yua,"
repeated Mrs. Mortimer, when he was goe,
"and yourself too. The air of this clse
room is absolutely poisonous. No wonder
the poor child looks so pale and miserable.
You must get him a pony the first thing."
He shall have one to-morrow," said Mr.
And you must ride and walk with him
every day."
"I do not think that I could walk very
far," said her brother, with a sigh, thus un-
consciously admitting his own weakness.
Not just at first perhaps; and yet how
you and I used to walk, William! Do you
remember ?"
Yes; we were children at that time."
"About the age of our children now.
Do you imagine that Frank could walk as
you did then ?"


I am afraid not."
Well, well, I will not say as I have heard
some people, that what is done cannot be
undone, but will try and help you to undo
it as fast as possible. Look at the boy now!
instead of playing about like other children,
there he is lying under the trees reading.
William, you will be very sorry for all this
if you should lose your child."
I am sorry now," replied the sick man,
meekly. "You are right, dear sister. I
am afraid that I have been very thought-
less and selfish. God forgive me! You will
stay here a little while, will you not, and
help me to amend the past ?"
Mrs. Mortimer was touched by his gentle-
ness and forbearance, and with much kind-
ness of manner promised not to leave the
Grange until they were both better.
Mrs. Mortimer was several years her bro-
ther's senior, and had always exercised upon
him that influence which a strong mind in-
variably possesses over a weak one, until his
marriage, which, as before stated, she had
opposed. It matters little now what ler
reasos were for this opposition: she thought



herself right at the time, but~ ery ~ Pry
for it afterwards, s heaiaes I it was too
late. Sheowrote and told her brother ihis;
'but, with his los still Mfesh upon his mind,
his reply to her letter r was such as prevented
all intercoursbetween them for some yeas.
Beneath a somewhat ough exterior, MrI.
Mortimer possessed a kind heart, and muhi
practical good sense, which only required at
times to be exercised in a gentler spirit.
At the period of which we are speaking se
waps widow, with one son, Frederiek, and
a little girl whpm she had called Helen, after
her sister-in-law. Mr. Netherton was pleased
when she told him of this mark of attention,
and begged earnestly that the child might
be sent for, andtihat Frederik might also
be permitted to spend his holidays at the
Grange; to all of which Mrs. Mortimer vil-
litgly agree--
I am so glad tht you are come," srid
he. It was fw kind of you after thit
cruel letter. I have often thought iaed-
ing to ask you, but I Yputi off fian 4t
to tim, and should hatedi4 e so, I belise,
qail it was too lat. used to thik Win

FRANK iBrnii'i. 1.
I ssu d~yia g she will not reface to forgive
sadoname to m~ i' -..
"We were both to blam ,"e amwerd Mrs
Mortimer, with teaiw in her eyes:' "I the
most so; but my little elde musit plead
for me&. Now do not io us. py aytihi
more ambot it., LSed she, oberwring tat
her brother looked pale an exhausted;
4 and Iill write at aoee and make arrange-
mente for her coming.
But before Mrs. Mortimer began toe wribe,
shewent into the grdnm and took Fremk'
book away, bidding himslwn about ad dn
lie thwe on the damp gras .
L Have you a boop?" asked she.
"XYes, aunt, I believe so."
Well, we must look jr it; and when
your cousi Frederlik comes, he wilMk ch
you all sorts of games. Shall yoW .otlike,
to have some one to play with?
T'Yes, very much/, answered Fraank
'intv I like being with m father?'
..Ae any of these floweibeds yo~ar?
iaq.idl his a. -..
SN", tre gadener takes care of tIkhe .
l We must ask your father to give yot

one to dig ad plant, mid do what ye pase
with-shall we? And a littse rke and a
hoe, and a -ateringfot ?'
Prank's eyes glisteed with pleasure.
I" That would be delightful I exalaied
ha And the shipping his hand into M~J
Mortier's, he added, ira conldential toe,
"It is very strange, but I waM jt riding
about flowers when ye came inmta tht gar
den; and how some bloom till December,
while others perish in May. I hink that
if I were a flower, dear ant, I wold rather
die in May, when everything looks sabrigfht
But as you are not a wer, Frank, bat
a little boy, I do not see any ue in think-
ing about it."
tOne cannot help thiining," said Frank.
What a little, ok-fashioned thing Be ai 1"
manmiued his asnt. Bt them Frederick
might have been the same if he had had n
mother:" and passing her hand carelely
over his long hair, which she inwardly e-
temined should be cut off the flrst eppor
tunity, and cautioning him. not to raeiau
after the dew begam to fall, he et into
the houe to write her letters.



Wmm Frank returned to the study;, tfad
bi ib her r bSi^ ttiA ere led nlethim,
wibtk l ae belt and bUrIed in hk
k *Are you ill?- asked he, gently. Mr.
NthQirto tarted, and drawing the boy to.
was* him, itbriie e him in silenee:
"Php" eaxlsamed Frak, afterapMe,
" SyH thtirmcinkag t vhat inty anat sawjust
now about me; but indeed I do not want to
live after you are gone.n
Mr/Netrheton aroused himself at Ce voice
of his child, and, straggling Aineth i
weakness both of mind and bedoy, uiid
cheerfully.-a .
SYoue mtunot say that, Frank. I hope,
if it be God's will, that you mayveto be a
g ft ad good ina, ma do geod to
-~iie HIo~mid fir instance, who went
ak v t vietfg a,- the prisons: how muel
good he did !



"Yes; you must study hard while you
are a boy-that is, not too hard; and when
you are a man there is no fear but what God
will give you something to do for himself
and others." .
"I should like to be a missionary, sa h
Henry Martyn, whose life you were reading
the other morning."
There is time enough to think what you
will be ten years hence. And new I will
tell you something that I think will give
you pleasure. You remember the -petty
bay pony which you admired s lkie t4he
other day.?"
"0 yes, to be sure I do "
"Well, it is yours; and to-morrow you
.al begin to learn to ride."
'Vrank clapped his hands for joy.
SBut will you not ride too, papa ?V
"Yes, as soon as ever you are able, -
company me."
"How delightful that will be! How Wva&
of you to think of it !"
It was your aunt who first though of
it, Frank; so you must thank her.. I ee
not tell you to be very obedient to.er, awd


to do all thatishe bids you, for I am sure
that it will be for your good."
Frank promised that he would. And then
he related to his father what she had said
absut the garden, and obtained hia willing
consent to a small portion of it being allotted
to Frank's peculiar wue. .
I will ee the gardener about it the fiat
thing to-morrow morning," saidMr. Nether-
ton, "and order him to procure tools suited
to ymtr siae and strength, and whateverseeds
or fttings you may require"
"I must ask my aunt about that," said
At that moment Mrs Mortimer entered
the study, and smilingly inquired what
was going to ask her with that qdianti-
"I declare the boy has quite a color,"
said she, pinching his flushed cheek. "But
come to tea now, and then to bed. I never
alloy children to sit up le. You know
the old proverb, William," added she, turn-
ing to her brother,
('Early to bed, and early to rise,
Mhfti a man bhethy, wealthy, and wise, a



"I knew a great many things onee that
I have forgotten," replied Mr. Netherton, as
he offered her his arm. "You must remind
me of them, my dearest sister."
"To be lure I will. Come along, Frank."
And her cheerful voice sounded pleasantly
in the long silent halls of the old Grange,
where no female, except the domestics, had
ever come since the death of its gentle mis-
But about the seeds, aunt," said Frank,
as soon as they were seated at the table.
"What sort had I better have ?"
Come to me to-xorrow morning, and we
will talk it over. You will find me in the
garden by six o'clock."
Six o'clock !" repeated Frank.
"Well, is that too early? Do you not
think that you are as capable of getting up
early as I am ?"
"Why, I suppose you are used to it, aunt."
Mrs. Mortimer could not help smiling.
And you must get used to it too, Frank.
Do you understand anything of arithmetic?"
"Yes, aunt.'
"Well, then, to-morrow you shall calcu-

FIAJ 1C N ITT@Ii. 19No;

late foi yu~sj n how uany yeara ~ue wasted
in an average lifetime by lying in bed in
the morning.
"And the shorter the life is" said Frank,
thoughtfully, the less we can 4re them.
I will begin, to-morow morning, I am de-
I Do so, my dear boy, and you will soon
reap the benefit of it every way. And in
order that you may be the better able to keep
your good resolutions, I would advise your
going to bed at once."
Frank was very obedient; and hastily
swallowing his tea, he arose from his chair,
and went away without another word, having
first kissed his father, sad held up his face
to his ant with an affectionate eonfidedt
that completely won her heart.
"God bless you, my child," said Mrs. Mor-
timer; and then turning to his father she
added, "I need not ask whether you have
taught him to pray. Whatever you may
have neglected, William, I am sure that you
have not forgotten that."
After Frank was gone, Mr. Netherton and
hii sister had a long and earnest conversa-



tion together, in which he admitted the jus-
tice and good sense of all het plans, and pro-
mised his assistance in carrying them into
practice. And then they both kneeled down
and askedfGod's blessing upon the future,
without which they could never hope to suc-
ceed, leaving the result to Him who orders
all things for the best, and who, as Mr. Ne-
therton said, had sent her to save his child.
From that time Mr. Netherton ceased to
talk to Frank of the past, but spoke cheer-
fully and hopefully of the present and of the
future. And when he did allude, as he could
not help occasionally doing, to her who was
never long absent from his thoughts, he
spoke of the joy that it would give her-if
angels are permitted to behold what passes
upon earth-to see her beloved child good
and happy.
Since Mrs. Mortimer's arrival, a change
seemed to have come over the whole estab-
lishment at the Grange. Some of the ser-
vants were sent away, and no one missed
them; while the others were obliged to do
their duty, and, above all, to attend public
worship regularly on the Sabbath, besides


resieady for family worship, whi h Mr.
Netherton conducted with his household
morning and evening. At uch times, or
wlen she listened to the mery votes of
Frank and his cousin &elesn, ai saw her
master smilingly regarding tidr childish
sports, the faithful housekeeper blessed the
hour when God had pit it into her heart to
write the letter whie had brought bak Mrs.
Mortimer to the home of her childhood, aad,
made them all friends again.
.Helen was a quiet, good4ampered little
girl, and Frank soon became very fend of
her, and used to give her all his prettiest
flowers, and was never weary of playing with
her, and relating stories, the greater part of
which she did not half understand.
How lever cousin Frank is!" said Helen
one day to her mother.
",Yes, I dare say he appeals so to you,
Helen, who are only a little girL"
Frank colored.
"I do not believe that Frederick knews
half as many wonderful things," persied
el mamma about he n
"Tell mamma about the nasturtiums,


edasia. Only think, dear mammaon stnm-
iner nights they actually send out .--"
Emit," interrupted Frank.
"Emit sparks of fire. Who was it that
first saw them, Frhk ?"
"The daughter of Linnaus, the great
I forget what you told me botany meant."
The natural history of plants and vege-
tables," replied her mother; in which Lin-
naeus, by great perseverance and application,
was well skilled. It hasbeen said of him,
that he never took a thing in hand which
he did not resolutely accomplish and bring
to an end; and therein lies the secret of his
success. Application and observation are
two very desirable qualifications. It was
doubtless by means of the latter that his
daughter made the discovery about the nas-
turtiums. We may all make discoveries, if
we will only learn to use our eyes."
o "'Eyes and no eyes,' Helen. You re-
member that story in the Evenings at
Home ?' said her cousin. "How I should
like you and me to make some wonderful
discovery 1"

." Bat we are only children," answered
Helen, meekly. A
I have heard my father say," continued
Frank, that it was two little cilden who
first invented, or led toWhe invention of the
telescope. They were playing one day in
their father's shop at Middleburg-we will
look for Middleburg on the map when we
go in--and handed to set up two piAes of
glass, such a are used in making speetaches
at a little distance from each other, when,
*ttheir great surprise, they saw the church
steeple, which was in reality a long way off,
nearer than they had seen it before. Did
you ever look through a telescope, Helen ?"
Yes, once when we were by the seaside;
and iteeemed touring the ships so close to the
shore, that we could see what some of the
men were doing on board."
"Well, I suppose the children could not
see quite so plainly as.that, but they were
very much astonished, and ran to tell their
father what they had discovered, who im-
mediately procured some pieces of glass of
the same size, which he fixed in tubes; and
so the telescope was first invented."

How strange, was it not, mamma e said
"Not strange, my dear, but very interest.
ing. It was observation that led to the in-
vention of the telteope, and application
which finally brought it to its present per-
fection. I am glad, my dear Frank, to find
how well you remember what you read and
hear. # After dinner I will hve the great tele
scope fixed up on the balcony, and you shall
both look through it as long as you please."

IT was a happy day for ftelen when her
brother arrived to spend his holidays at the
Grange; for she was very fond of him, not-
withstanding that he used to tease her a
great deal. Frederick, as his mother had
observed, although only a year older than
his cotsin Frank, was at least a head and
shoulders taller. He was a fine, active
high-spirited boy,somewhat willful and oveo
bearing, but good-naturedand warm-hetted.

SlANK' V-222 BATON* 2

Nothing cok be poie onlik. in p
ance and disposition than the two cusins
Fredeick was eeerfl and talktiv, and
often said a great many things .whih bad
better have been left unlaid, and for which,
although he was too proud to aoknowledg
it, he was sorry afterwards. Frank was als
cheerful, but quieter; when he did peak,
it was generally to the purpose. Freerick
was so restless that it was with diikuity
he could sit still, or fix his attention up
af subject for above a few moments at a
time. Frank sat and studied too muh, and
seldom cared to take that exereie and re-
laxation which is so necessary, a well as
natural, for the young. The one wanted
application, the other activity .
Frederick was proud and sensitive; the
fear of ridicule, or the laughter of his com-
panions, would turn him away even from
hat he-knew to be right He was notphy-
a~Wily, but meally, a coward. He was
afraid to think for himself. F rank ,wasv a
gula~lyfearIes bot in mid and body He
lways eid- what h tbhght, without ariag
what others thought of him. Mr. Netertoa


bad been very anxious to encouragethis feel-
ing; but he also never failed to remind him,
that although the truth must be spoken at
all times, it should be spoken in love-that
we may be perfectly sincere, without being
harsh or unkind. To be sure, Frank had
yet to learn whether he could bear being
ridiculed for his opinions.
It is strange how the fear of God casts out
the fear of man. If we can feel quite re
that God approves of our thoughts and ac-
tions, how trifling, in comparison, appWe
the approval of others!
The cousins had been talking together a
few weeks after Frederick's arrival.
"I dare say," observed he, "that I am
just as good as you, only I do not make such
a fuss about it. If I did, I should be finely
laughed at at school, I can tell you."
I do not pretend to be good," answered
Frank; but I do ot see why I should be
ashamed of trying to be better, or of talking
about that which can alone make me so."
"It is all very well here, with my uncle
sadlittle Helen; but we have so saints at


SI have heard my father sy," reied
Pank, "* that the word saint is often used in
the same sense as believer. Are there no
believers at your school ?'
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Frederick, impa-
tiently. "Do you take us for heathens?"
Then if Christians, why be ashamed of
I is all very well at present," said Fre
derick, "but I should like to see what you
would do at school: and it is not improbable
tt ILmay, from what I overheard mamma
say yesterday to my uncle."
0, what courd that be ? But do not
tell me; if my father wishes me to know,
he will tell me himself."
Should you like to go back with me,
Frank ?"
"I do not know; I never thought about
it. I think I should; only I should be sorry
to leave my dear fatheL Wordsworth, I re-
member, calls his sohooldays the gold
time '
I" A! that was when he was a man. But
I an tell yo that itis a great bore having
to study so many hours, and being obliged


to learn, whether you like it or not, To be
sure, the play-time is pleasant enough; and
the half-holidays, when it does not rain. But
I do not know what you would do in play-
time: why, you do not know a single game."
"I suppose I could learn."
"I do not know," replied Frederick,
gazing rather contemptuously at his cousin's
slight, delicate form. "We cal such fellows
as you girls, at schooL"
"Never mind, Frank," said little Helen,
kindly. "I do not mind being called a girL"
Neither of the cousins could help laughing.
"That is because you area girL But you
would mind being called a Tom-boy," said
her brother.
She need not," interrupted Frank, be-
cause it would not be the truth. It does not
signify what any one says of us if we know
that it is untrue."
"Very well, Mr. Philosopher," said Fre-
derick, shaking his head; "we shall see."
Frederick was right in supposing that, in
all probability, his cousin would accompany
him back to schooL When Mra Mortimer
first spoke of it to her brother, he instantly

md dikeiedly refsed to pmrVwi* his dild;
but she gradally unoosedi in sviinei g
hia ho= m ieh it wold be ibr Piak's ad-
vetage in every way,.d ai relnamnt ona-
sent was at length obte d.
"Be it. o, said Mr. Nethert~ ." Let
him go and fora fesh- ooanaetiom ad'asM
clations that may ouMDlie him, ishoud it
opleam God totakeme way. Aait is,I fear
that mch an evmit wMl brek the poor
cddlds heartt"
SLeI t as hop. be tler ng"' replide4 i
sistr, gently. You arelaed9l y onmider-
aby stronger; sadFrmnk is quite a dlermnt
boy to 6 wh he was a months .
"Thelks to you."
iThmank to God, my ear bother. I
trat,if it be his will, you may be sparM
numy years to see yeor mea become all that
you could wish. Frank is a oble little
fellow; butayethe isonlyadmremer. It
will be good both for his ind and body to
associate for a timnawith other boys, and
learn to at as well as to think for himself;
dl to join not only in their tuadieu, but
their sport. It is not enough to be leer

80 PRANI x Yws wur.
d leaet; we smuat alo be Aisft
aoiTef-mea an eboys aore.peaillyF
Mr. Neitherton aimned tih. ia wil
right, with sigh dar hi own helpemiumas

diMease, hdmwadie htidawa he wen; bbt it
had io been so in protday tLad somMd
still atndopate a brig rf ftfereforbihrhibL
Prani kold Awbnelp einrg ad ailie
through ofhwrinmg Ane, ra, abor.sUll,
kind and indulgent parent, floam kw:lhe
had lever before hi a separate, e, fe ta
single day; MaIr Mbsrter havmfuar
himar that parndt l..to i s -w,
trol hi emoMisf The. lile hl ebetymd
her a well as he was a.is: bbn it ir a
haertriAldr his fea~orsiteem hlst
ria. E em ta bay pony' ad the' flooW
gaaradea.s im Lur La dase ac his U egmes,
though Mlie Hela omisi toe take the
latter under her own ca.;-a M~. or tms
having onseated to oointi to ride at
the Grcage at least f: alh plreent.
Frederick did very little towards' en-
oowragiag his young compaiaon, lfor w
warned bim that he maui not 6lookto him



for everything, but fight his own battles,
as he had been obliged to do when he first
went to school. To which Frank replied,
that he did not want any one to fight his
battles, and that ie had Do doubt but what
he should do very well; although, in his
heart, he could not help thiining hia Rosin
somewhat unkind.
It was uot ill-ature, but the fear of being
laughed t, which made Frederick determine
to hold back until be bad see. how Fouk
was likely to be xeoeived Be felt hlf
ashamed. that 4 osi of his should be so
profoundly ignorant of all tha he thought
it neeesary fer a shool-boy to kwow.
"What is the ue of his Greek andLtin,"
asgead Frederick, when he ondas aad.
nesting of erieket, sad cannot even p4y ia
football? And te he is. such a litle fe
low-thougk, to be sure, he canot help tha
- sand has sho old-fashioned notions. He
is irae to be quismd."c
f .* ,



THE evening before Frank left home, he
went into the study to have what he called
"a last look."' There stood his father's
easy chair, and his own little stool on which
he had so often at at his feet, and listened
to his conversation, in which amusement,
instruction, and something higher still, were
ever carefully blended together; where he
had so often heard his favorite story oft, e
child and the teapers. And now he Wia
going away for months, and he might never
hear that dear father's voice again,- Child
as he was, Frank knew the ad mine~ingtf
the Word death. His little heart was Me to
bursting; andkneeling down beforetheeihir,
he buried his head in its cunhiaoe and wept.
Mr. Nethernon entered unperce.ved, amd
thinking that he was praying, stood a mof
ment unwilling to interrupt him, while his
own heart ascended in earnest supplication
to the throne of grace; until aroused by a
passionate sob.

"My son, my dear son !" excleimed Mr.
Netherton, bending over him. The eight
of his pale face recalled to Frank his aunt's
warning, and he hastily arose.
"Forgive me," said he. "I "oould not
help weeping just for a moment when I
thought of all thehappyhours ie have speak
here together. But I dare say that I shall
be very happy at school after a time."
"I hope so, Frank. You must write to
me. My chief pleasure,-when yon are *awT,
willbe to hear of your wlldoingt. It is a
comfort that your cousin Frederick will tid
with you."
Frank was too trutfal to say yes; so he
said nothing. Mr. Nethertotr sat down 4i
hi'wasy chair, and Frank placed hidasee
once against his feet. -
Tell me a story, papa," said he, after*
pause: one more story, as yo-wused to do
before my aunt came."
-Theie is no thie for a story now Prrkk;
or re shall keep that Vind anat wisiis tew
for us. But I will tll you a little anedote
I read the other day, and which I belie to
be a fact."


O, thauk you. I like facts," said Frank,
leaning his head on his father's knee.
A negro woman, in one of the West In-
dia Islands," began Mr. Netherton, "was
once forbidden by her master to attend pub-
lic worship, and threatened with severe pun-
ishment if she ventured to go. Although
only a slave, the poor woman was a sincere
and humble follower of Him who, when he
was reviled, reviled not again. The only
pleasure which she had was in going to the
house of God to hear about the Lord Jesus
Christ, and that better land where there
shall be no more sorrow nor sighing, and
which he had purchased for her with his
precious blood. Her disappointment was
great; but she only lifted up her handa nd
eyes. to heaven, and answered meekly, I
mIus tell de Lord dat' It is said that this
touching reply, this quiet appeal to a higher
tribunal, so affected her owner that he no
longer refused the desired permission. God
softened the heart of this cruel master, for
the sake of his poor, oppressed servant."
"What a nice anecdote said Frank.
And will you endeavor to remember it,

itA^#t #MWER O>t 87
my der boy; and bring all yor little triah
and troubles to the Iiord, to you heavealy
Father-in full assurance of his love and
tender ompasmiot for Jesus' sake ? Commit
your way unto the Lord, and he 8ill bring
itto pass. Tell your diffialties and disap-
pointments to him. Leave everything .in
his hands. He knoweth best, and will do
for us above all that we can desireor deserve.
You believe this, Frank ?"
"I am sure of it," replied the bcoy raising
his bright, trustful lane to hisfather's faoe
It is well. And now I have a present
for you, my dear boy, which I think you will
like," said Mr. Netherton, placing a small
clasped Bible in the hands of his son. I
nem not tell you to value it."
0, thank you, dear papa. I do likeit
very much indeed," replied Frank, with glifs
tening eyes.
SYou will read a chapter, as usual, m*n-
ing and evening," said Mi. Netherton.
"And you must not neglect to pray at the
same time. I know that you wil have a
great deal to do and think of at schoct. and
very little time to yourself; but, asthe good

In Cecil observes, 'a Christian. w find
his parenthesis for prayer even through his
busiest hours."'
I suppose he meant that he would make
it," said Frank.
"It is not improbable that such was his
meaning. But I have one more thing to
say: I am not afraid of your being idle,
Frank, so much as I am that you will study
too hard. Remember that I would rather
see a little color in your cheeks, than
the first prise in your hand." He could not
trust himself to add more; but Frank knew
by the faltering voice, and the trembling of
the hand which rested upon his shoulder,
how tenderly he was beloved, and promised
faithfully to recollect and obey his injunc-
tions; after which they went into the draw-
ing-room to tea
Notwithstanding all Mrs. Mortimer's ef-
fortk to the contrary, in which she was
warmly seconded by her son, the evening
passed gloomily away. Little Helen wept
at the thought of parting with her "two
brothers," as she called them; and Frank,
but for shame, would fain have sat down and

ratJUs aK asfit0o. W8
aingltd hisrteSawwith her.-lt~ough he
enideaored toe ezrhimnselfto Appo6a cheer
fil his heart was sad whenever bhilooked
up and met his father's gaae fixd earastly
upon him. ..
It had been arranged tht the boyo were
to start by an early oaeh on the following
morning, accompanied by a trusty servant;
sad Mr. Netherton -hd promised not to at-
tempt to rise at so unuasal an hour: the
parting, therefore,was to take plhe a aight.
Frank bore it bravely for his father' w ake.
What if I shouldnever see him again '
exclaimed Mr. Netherton, as the door closed.
"Let us hope better thiuag," said his sis-
ter;." but endeavor, nevertheless to. say,
'God's will be done.'"
Mr. Netherton bent down his head, and
his whispered Amen" spoke of a meek and
chastened spirit.
Mr Mortimer came into Frank's Pom
a4ter he was in bed. The pillow wasewet
with his tears, and he turned away his head
that she might not see how he had wept
"Never mind, Frank," sai4 his ane te-
de4Ly embracing him. It is natural that

40 PtSAK wIrawuBOL i
ye should griew at leaving hmeaeir s
firt time. You have shown a great deal
sefIeontrol before year per father, and I
am maeh pleased with yo0'
SDo you think my father so very ill?"
asked rank, eanestly.
"He requires great care; but there i
nothing at present that need render you un.
easy. I need not tell you that he will be
taken great eare of in your absence "
And if he should bes wore -- "r
"Iwill sendforyou at oee: noaCthatB y
could do any good, but because it would be
a comfort to you."
( My dear, dear aunt, how kind you are !"
exclaimed Frank, clasping his arm round
her neck. How much I love you!"
"I am glad of that. I want you to love
me, and to look upon me as a mother."
A remorseful pang went through Mmn
MtimerPs heart as she pronounced the last
word; but Frank's affectionate careMseN
soothed her again.
Now go to sleep," said she, after a pease,
and laying him gently back on the pillow,
U that you may be able to rise early otom

"rMAt rWI eswo r

mr bira S I hope that yom aP reds
rick will be good friends I give you the
same advism I have always given hi :-Let
nothing indue yoa tode iatemnr thm ~fi
or to tell tales of yoar eotrlpniea: the
liar and the talebearer are depised Study
in school, and play out of it. The morexer-
eise you take, the better. Be neither a ty-
rnt nor a slave; but kind and ever ready
to oblige. Do your duty; and always en-
deavor to mat rightly, without hearing about
theaquene~e ve no fear but the fer
of God. May he bless and watch over y*o,
my dear ehild, for Jesus' sake !"
Agaif Mrs. Mertimer kissed his cheek,
and Frank felt a tear there that was not his
own; but before he could speak she was gone.
Frank did not see his father again before
he started; but when he bent forward to
catch a last glimpse of the old Grange, he
noticed that the blind in Mr. Nethereb
room was drtnshightly aside, and Mt that
he wabhed and blessed him.
Do not cry, Frnk," said his cousin, at
length. "After all, you will notfind ishod
life so bWadwhen once you are uned to it I


rather like going bck now. But to-be as
I felt as you do at first "
It i not that. I should not so much
mindgoing to school said Frak,:" if Iwere
quite sure of finding all right on my return."
You are thinking of your father. He
will get better."
"O, I hope so!"
"I am sure of it," repeated Frederick, ean
couragingly. "My mother is a capital nurse."
Frank did not reply; but after a few mo.
ments he wiped away. his tears, and spoke
cheerfully. He had placed the matter in
God's hands, and asked him to take care of
his dear father for him until he came back.

NamLY all the boys had returned, and were
assembled in the schoolroom when the cou-
sins arrived. Mr. Campbell received them
kindly, and having shaken hands and ex-
changed a few words with his new pupil,
he introduced him to his schoolfellow and

onsigniag him more espe.ally to th e re
of his cousin, left them together.
Frederick had a tosamnd thing to tell
his couapio s;' a thoiusaa questions to
ask and answer as to where they had been
and what they had done daring the bhlidays;
and Frank meanwhile steod by, runistied
and lone, and feeling almost ready to cry.
When they did begin to notice him at length
he was not much better off, for they only
smiled, and whispered to one another; and
he observed that rederick appeared to be
as much amused as the rest. Frank bh g
to look as well asfeel very sad and dismal
in that room full of strange faces, and a
large tear stole down his flushed cheek
What is the matter, little one?' asWed
one of the boys. "Are you motheroick
already ?"
SThat cannot be," answered Frank, "for
I have no mother."
"Poor little fellow! leave him alone," said
an suthoritative voice. The boys drew back
and continued to whisper; all but one, who
wenteup to whee Frank stood, and holding
out his hand, said in a low voice-


4 hIave o smother either. Let as be
With all my heart,"'repled Frank.
I did not hear what Mr. Campbell said
your name was ?"
"Frank Netherton."
SMine is Howard."
"Have you been long at school ?" asked
Yes, nearly a twelvemonth; but I do not
like it better than the first day I came."
"Mr. Campbell appears to be very
"So he is, when we do right. But the
worst of it is, I never can do right for long
together; and then he is very stern, and I
get so frightened that I do not know what
I am about."
"Have you a father ?" asked Frank.
"No, I am an orphan. My aunt is very
kind to me; only of course she does not love
me as well as her own children."
"I, too, have an aunt," said Frank; "and
a father also."
You are very young to come to school,
are you not?"

*' Only a year younger than my cauwit
"Then you are very little for yoar age"
SThat was what you were all au~king at,
I suppose," said Frank; "but I did not
make mysaet" *
"Why, Philip Doyle did call you an odd-
looking, old'ifshioued little thing; aMndtkhe
Mortimer said that you were as ol4 ai you.
looked, aad they would find it oatby-adby."
"It was very wakind of Frederick to say
that," observed Frank, eoloring.
I do not think he meant. it unkiadly;
but he always laughs when the rest d."
And whB is Philip Doyle ?"
"One of the cleverest bbys, and one of
the greatest tyrants in the school. I would
do anything rather than.offend hi.. When
once he works himself into a passion, it is
quite terrible to see him; and a ver little
wil do it"
4 Who is it now talking to my cuiy p and
looking at us?"
SCla de Hamilton. He is wry clever too.
Every one loves Claude Hamilton. It was
he who interfered just now, when they were

going to tease you for crying. I am sure
it is only natural to cry when one comes to
school for the first time."
." It may be natural, but I am afraid that
it was very foolish," said Frank; "and I
do not mean to cry again if I can help it."
There were no lessons that evening. It
seemed a very long evening to Frank. Fre.
derick never once approached him until just
before bedtime, when he came to warn him
not to be too intimate with young Howard.
He is the greatest dunce in the school,"
said he, "and a coward as well: the less
you have to do with him the better."
"He was very kind to me," answered
Frank, a little bitterly, "when no one else
came near me."
Frederick colored.
"I warned you beforehand," said he,
"that you must fight your own battle"
"And so I wilL But even if you are ao
on my side, surely you need not be against
"Who said I was against you? Did
Howard say so?"
"Never mind," answered Frank. I dd


not want to qurrelwih you, or lo y'o to
q rrel wibhany one el on my Maeount, But
I did think it herd, when your dear motihe
said that we should be like brother"
( Well, well,". said Frederick, holding out
kis hand; "I diA not mean to be unkind
But yeu must not expect too auoh Every
one for hitaself : you know the old prover~w"
Yes," replied Frank, "I have heard it,
bt -I never felt it before."
Mr. Campbell was surprised upon ques-
tiorig. Fraak, the following morning, t
find how much he knew, and how carefully
and thoroughly he had -been taught r and
said a great deal that was highly gratifying
to his feeliage on the subject.
Contrary to my usual custom," observe
he, "I shall place you immediately hii one
of the pper classes; and it inust be your
care to pnve that I am justified in so doing."
Frank thanked him gratefully, and
promised to be very diligent A. abon as
he had returned to his seat, Fredeick con-
gratulated him in a whisper upon his good
fortune, and :poke so kindly that he quite
forgot the past.


Frank was very happy attending 'to his
studies, until the play-hour arrived *ad
then, when all the other boys rushed forth
with glad shootings, the old melancholy feel-
ing stole over him again, as he stood for-
gotten and alone. His new friendly Howard
was not permitted to leave the school-oom:
he was often in disgrace. Frederiek never
thought of him. Frank listened to his
merry laughter, and tried not to feel sai.
"Hollea, little one!" exclaimed Philip
Doyle, shaking him roughly by the shoulder.
Are you going to cry again ?"
a No," replied rrank, "i am not. As to
being little, I cannot help that; it iano dis-
grace. MAgnts Akemand erpore pwvm
erm--The great Alexander was in stature
small.' "
"Do you think that I could not have
translated your Iatin doggerel for myelf,
bad as it was pronouaced" ?
SI do not know,
What do you mean by saying that yor
do not know?"
I meaa what I wkd," replied Frank, fear

SFor shame, DIla "e intrpted Cimde
Hamilton, stepping between thanz a "u SU r
you would not strike -ich a child."
He is old enough to be impertinent, and
had better keep out of my way," muttered
Doyle, as he passed on.
"As for you, Alexander the Gret," said
Clande Hamilton, with a smile, "I woul4
advise you in futats not to roee the alum-
bering lion, or quote Latin out of school
"He began," said Frank.
"Well, never mind. Are yoa not going
to play at something? I wllintroduce yeo."
"But I do not know any ganes," msid
Frank, shrinking back. "I oner played
before in my fife.'
Why, where in the world have you been
brought up?"
"My father was always ill," pleaded
Frank; and I never left him ~il now."
Ah, I ee; that is what make you. look
so pale _ami kly. But you can learn, cn-
not you?"
-: To. ., e Ian, if any ne will bat
and have patience with me,"

"Come along then. ut you must not
mind being laughed at."
I will not, if I can help it."
But Frank could not always help it, al-
though he persevered notwithstanding.
When they told him that he held the bat
like a girl, he tried again and again until
he had succeeded in doing better. In all
his little trials, Frederik's laugh seemed
the hardest to bear; but Claude Hamilton
stood his friend, and he tried not to eare
for it.
Poor Frank was not strong, and soon grew
weary, especially just at first; and used to
fling himself down upon the ground with a
beating heart and throbbing temples 0!
how he wished himself back in his father's
quiet study at such times! But he forbore
to complain, and few guessed how much he
He wrote home in a cheerful spirit, merely
mentioning that he was learning to play
cricket. His father little dreamed of the
fatigue and mortifications which he cheer-
fully endured. The same unselfish affec-
tion marked that fathers reply; in which

be dwelt largely n the alight improvement
visible in his own health, and said not~ig
of the long hours of weariness and depression
in which his little companion *as: so sadly

BEFORE long, Frank had other Ead ider
trials than learning to play cricket-4uch
trials as all must expect to endure, more or
less, who would live godly in Christ Jesus.
The days of martyrdom are past; but eoen
a schoolboy may bear his faithfttl and un-
flinching testimony to his Ma eter cause,
and fearlessly take to himself the sweet cdn-
solation of Scripture, If ye suffer for rightl-
ousness' sake, happy are ye: and be &nt afraid
of their terror, neither be troubled."
Did I not warn you of all this ?" said
Frederick, upon one occasion, when Frank
could not help feeling a little troubledd"
forthe moment, bat it was only fbt a moment.
Did I not teff you ho ybu iwoud be
laughed at?"

"Yes, you warned me, and that rwa all
that you did do. You never helped me; bat,
please God, I will help myself."
"That is right, Netherton," exclaimed
Claude Hamilton, encouragingly. "Bome
was not built in a day. I prophesy that
the time will come when no one will venture
to laugh at you."
Thank you," said Frank, I can bear
bei laughed at in a good cause."
'eAud what is the good cause at present
in dispute ?"
Frank was silent; but Howard answered
for him.
"The boys call him a Methodist, because
he reads his Bible every morning and even-
ing, and says long prayers-longer, that is,
than any of the rest of us."
"The latter may easily be, I should imp-
gine. But what harm is there in Nether-
ton's reading his Bible?"
I do not know; unless it is because none
of the other boys do the same."
"The more is the pity. But you Imust
not be too sure of that, Howard; only t~ey
may not read it so openly as yojr friend."


When I was at home," said Frank, I
had a little room to myself; bWt it is not
so now. And after all there is nothing to
be ashamed of We need only be ashamed
when we do wrong."
Claude Hamilton colored slightly.
Shake hands, Netherton," exclaimed he,
"for I am as bad as you are. I also read
my Bible every morning and night; and I
hope to do so as long as I live."
I am so glad," said Frank; and the tears
came into his eyes. 4 I wish you slept in
our room."
So do I," answered Hamilton. "We may
be together some day, perhaps."
"Then you are a Methodist too," exclaim-
ed Howard.
"Yes, as much as Netherto is," replied
Hamilton, looking fearlessly round. "So
laugh away, all of you." But no one ven-
tured to laugh at Claude Hamilton.
From that time Frank's heart yearned to-
wards him, and he longed to deserve and
gain his friendship; although he scarcely
dared to hope that one so much his superior
would ever regard him as a friend.



Frederick was partly right in warning
his cousin against being too intimate with
Howard. But Frank could not forget that
he had been the first to be kind to him, or
be unmindful of his evident affection. He
was not a boy whom he could love, or make
a friend of, because he did not respect him;
but he could not avoid pitying him very
much, and was always ready to help him
out If his difficulties as far as it lay in his
The time came, however, when even Frank
was tempted to desert him. Howard had
no punishment to bear; no hard lesson to
learn. He was not obliged to remain in the
school-room alone, when all the rest were
enjoying themselves without; but he was
afraid to go among them, for he knew that
no one would speak to or play with him.
To screen himself, he had told tales of one
of his school-fellows, and the rest had hooted
him out of their society. Frank alone lin-
gered, and looked back.
"If you show yourself his friend now,"
said Frederick, everybody will think you
just as bad as he is."

"As for that, I do not much cre what
'everybody' thinks, and I do pot think nmy
self that I ought to leave him now he is
alone and in trouble. He is not my friend,
but he was kind to me when no one else
Let him go," said Doyle, laying hold of
Frederick's arm, and. pulling him away.
" You know the old adage-' Birds of a fee-
ther flock together.'"
His mocking laugh rang in Frank's ears
as he rejoined Howard.
How kind of you to stay, Frank! But
are you not afraid of being seen with me?"
"I am not afraid of anything."
"I wish I was not, for then I should not
have told as I did about poor Bushton. I
suppose they will never forget it."
"Never is a long time. It was a wrong
and cowardly action. You must tell Rushton
how sorry you are; and you must never do
it again, come what may."
SNever, never-that is, I hope that I
shall not. But I am always doing wrong;
and it is of no use trying to do otherwise.
And after all, there is no one who cares for


me. I have no father, no mother, no friend
in the world.",
You must not sy that," replied Frank.
"Have you forgotten One who has promised
to be the Father of the fatherless--who has
said,' As one whom his mother comforteth,
so will I comfort you'-.-who is the Friend
of the friendless, the Saviour of sinners, the
good Shepherd, seeking after the lost sheep;
and, not content with bidding them follow
him, bearing them in his arms, and upon
his bosom ?"
"I know very little of these things," said
Howard; I wish that I knew more."
You will not learn by wishing," replied
Frank. "You must read your Bible, and
ask God to help you to understand it. You
have a Bible, I suppose ?"
"I believe so."
"You only believe so. 0, Howard! Bis
we will look tonight when we go to bed, and
if not, I can lend you mine."
"You are very kind," said his companion,
hopelessly. "And you will be my friend,
and help me ?"
Of course I will be your friend; and I

wilI help yon willingly, whenever I emn be
of any assistance, because yow were kind to
me the firt day I eame to school '
SThat was a happy day for me" said
Howard. "I never liked mayone as Ido yu.
But I deserve that you should despise me .
"I have too many faults of my own to
dare to despise anyone," answered Frank
But what do you advise me to do?"
Go at once to Mr. Campbell Tell him
how sorry you are for what has oesurred;
and ask him to forgive Bmhton, or els per-
mit you to share his punishment Yoa
would not mind a hard leson, would you ?
"No, it is not that; but I am afraid of
speaking to Mr. CampbelL"-
"Nonsense Think how pleasant it would
be if you could carry Rushton his pardon,
and ask him to be friends with you. If not,
yoa can tell him how sorry you are forwhat
you have done. Rushton is a warm-hearted
boy, notwithstanding his provoking ways
and speeches"
"I have a great mind to try," said Howard.
"Come at once, then, before the rest re-

Frank went with him, and even knocked
at the study door; and when they heard
Mr. Campbell's voice bidding them come in,
there was nothing left for Howard but toenter.
When Frank returned to the playground,
many a mocking voice inquired where his
friend Howard was.
"We must take care what we do," said
Doyle, or Netherton will be turning tale-
bearer uext." .
Not I," exclaimed Frank,, "if I died for
it. But I must say that I do not think it
fair the way you all treat Howard. He has
done wrong, and he is very sorry: what more
would you have ?"
Hear him !" exclaimed Doyle, with a
At that moment Rushton and Howard
entered the playground hand in hand, ad
it soon got whispered about how the latter
had gone to Mr. Campbell to beg Rushton
off; and even offered to share his punish-
ment. Many of the boys went up and shook
hands with him.
"It was well done," said one. "I did not
think that it had been in him."



Little Nethero was right," observed
another. "Let us my no more about it
He has had his lesson."
Frederick Mortimer sided, as usual, with
the multitude; while his cousin kept apart,
for fear that Howard, in his gratitude,
should betray him. The sight of his rar
diant-looking face was happiness, enough.
As soon as he could, he stole away and r-en-
tred the house. Claude Hamilton was lean-
ing against the door, and, as he moved aside
to let Frank pass, he mid in a low, sweet
voice, "' Blessed are the peasemakers. "

Aroeouon Frank, thanks to the pami which
his father had taken with him, knew more
than most boys of his age, he ws total an-
accustomed to the regular mode of istrue-
tion to which he was now obliged to saulit ;.
and it cost him no litle pains to maitain
hiq position in the ehess in whi& Mr. Camp-
bell, misled by his ready and correct anawrs


to his questions, had first placed him. His
present systematic course of study was ni-
ther so easy nor so pleasant as it had been*-
Sto listen to the eloquent and instructive con-
versation of Mr. Netherton, -and turn with
him to maps, globes, pictures, and books of
,-reference. Frank's memory, though good,
sadly wanted method and arrangement.
Mr. Campbell was not long in discovering
the error which he had committed., He said
little upon the subject, but kindly and pa-
tiently assisted Frank to, correct it; and the
more cheerfully when he saw how willing he
was to assist himself, and how hard he worked
in order to maintain his present position.
Mindful of his aunt's injunctions, Frank took
all the exercise he could out of school hours;
and his health, so far from suffering from
his severe application at other times, seemed
to be slightly improved; and he dwelt with
pleasure upon the delight which it would
give his father to see him so changed. His
cousin found him, one day, looking intently
at himself in the glass. He wanted t6 ee
if there wefa any traces of color on his pale
cheeks; but he found none as yet.


It was a rule in Mr. Campbells house to
lay aside all tasks on the Sabath day,
making it, as it ought and was intended to
be, a day of rest. Outwardly at least, no
books were read but those.of a religious ten-
dency; but the absence of Mr. Campbell
generally proved a signal forthe production
of others of a totally differed t character.
What shocked Frank more than anything
else was, to observe that many of the bdy"
oneealed these stolen volumes within the
overs of their Bibes, which they thus ap-
peared to be diligently perusing.. Notwith-
standing his horror of such duplicity, the
books were a great temptation; and it cost
him many a struggle to refuse to read them
when they were offered to him.
SIf you would only lend it to we to-mor-
row," said he, upon one occasion -
"Now or never !" replied Rushton.
Then it must be never," said Frank.
"It is such a beautiful story," observed
Howard, about two Indian children, who
were carried-out to sea in the boat in which
they were playing, :and cast, un a desert
island. I am sure that you would lik it."


I dare say I should," said F-a k trnm-
ig resolutely away. But he could Bt help
wondering to himself what the childmrlid
on the desert island; and was glad when
Mr. Campbell came in, after his seual eus-
tom on the Sabbath evening, to read and
talk with them. And when he laid his hand
upon his shoulder, and spoke kindly to him
as he passed, Frank felt pleased that he had
dine nothing to deceive him; and thought
he should havewinced at his touch, and shrunk
away frownhis glance, had it been otherwise.
They .ead that evening the eighth
chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. The
twenty-eighth verse came to Frank ; but he
paused, and remained silent.
"Well?" exclaimed Mr. Oampbel, in-
quiringly. 4
"I was just thinking, sir, how far the
eunuch came to worship."
The boys looked at one another and
smiled; but Mr. Campbell answered gravely.
Yes, Frank, it is worth observing. Afi-
can Ethiopia lies below Egypt; be must
therefore ve e come -omo hundreds of miles
to worship at the temple."


eI kill ha mwaid, sir."
Yes, :y boy. Now let us aish the
dmaptr, and A.fterw ar I will 8how yo a
picture which I have of the e~srh's well."
The chapter wasonclded, sad th pie re
produced. Jt was beautifuUly fished from
a draiing.madeion the spot, a:Fralnk bet
over it in silent admiratio.L
Clude Hamiltfoi inquired what the ol
ruins, visible in the vicinity of the well, weaf
supposed to represent
They are imAged tob ethis of mmne
ancient church, r e onvent, whildrformerly
stood oa this pot," replied Mr. Campbell;
"but nothing certain is known on the sub.
ject I have heard it maintained that it
aould not have bean here that the eunuch
waebaptised, beeAuse he is represented to
have come in a chariot from Jerualem,
whereas thiroad is not peasle forcar-
risges. Chariots of old, however, were very
different fromour present coaches, the wheels
wrng liyer, and Lneh broader and stronger
and the vestiges of an ancieo t carriage road
a yet n tbe peP*rvedal le warfrom eta-
salea to .braS still it is uwsry wn aiu


whether this was the place where the tuch
wa baptized. I have several other tiews
taken in the Holy Land, which I will Aow
you at some future opportunity."
"I suppose it was called the Holy Land
because the Holy One lived and walked
there," said Frank, thoughtfully.. How I
should like, when I am old enough, to go to
Jerusalem, and tread, as it were, in the foot-
steps of the Savionr-P!
You may endeavor to do that without
going to Jerusalem, or waiting until you
are older,'said Mr. Campbell.
Yes, sir, I know," replied Frank, color-
ing; bht I did not exactly mean that."
Never mind. It is better to act than
to dream. With God's help, you may begin
at once practically to follow in the Ibetfeps
of the blessed Redeemer when he walked on
earth; to take up your cross ad leara of
him, and be meek and lowly in heart;- wMle
it must necessarily be many years, i ever,
before you visit the Holy Land. What Isay
to you I say to alL"p-
After apase, Mr. Campbellwklke Hear
which was the oldet bobk in the worl

FIAg& im" IM. OM .

- r. Onmpbets;hookki bed L
*RBihton, in whiper to hismO OBpioas,
suggest e Bobinsen rusoe."
WiI W]l Mortior, can you tlU ?"
The Bible, sir."
eight Heredaot andThui yidcl, 4he
oldest profane historians whose writing atve
resaced outi ttese, were oonteaportry with
Ezra and Nebemiah, the last of the bit
rians of the Old Testameot. It was nearly
six hundred 7yer after MoNAl~bfore he
poems of Homaer appeared. The pteerva-
tion of the Bible is very remark a de At
one time, during the captivity of the Jews
in Babyl aotonly theirtwalple wa burned,
ltithe vey ark in w.ich the orgil aid ~
of he law was kept ;. d tieir eity llis ~iat
for more than a hundred ear. We ead,
aoi-hat Antioebis Epiphanw, heabt seak
Jerusalem, murdered gbot 40,00 ~r it in
habitat. .old aM many 3nmo t be saves,
-ld& aiered -at whoever r-w found with the
oo oft the law should be put to death; aid
wery book ltat owl d b dIe- vered was
burned. Under jhese ciretumtaes '" it


not remarkable that this book of the Jews
should have been preserved, ad that not a
single book of the Egyptians, the Chaldens,
or the Phenicians, the most flourishing aad
civilized nations which lived at that time,
should have reached us ?"
It is indeed remarkable," said Claude
"God took care of the Bible," suggested
That is the right and only way of a(
counting fo iit," said Mr. CampbelL
Is it true," asked Philip Doyle, that a
Bible in the reign of King James cost seventy
pounds '
"Perfectly true. We ae also told by
Toplady, that time was when the word of
the Lord was so previous in te land, that a
farmer in the reign of Henry VIIL gave a
eamt4od of hay for one lof of the Epistle
of St. James in English."
"Is it possible ?" exclaimed Howard.
'"Yes; it appears strange aow, when B-1
bdes are so cheap that few, we should think,
need be without one in their home BUt it
is growing late."

"Now for black Monday, and hard les-
sons," said Howard to Frank, as they went
up stairs to bed.
"I have often thought, replied Frank,
"how nice it would be to have no Mondr
morning. But we must ait till we getV
heaven for that?"
How do you know you will ever get to
heraen, little one ?" asked one of the boys,
".How do I know ? 0 HerertI, !o you
not believe in the Lord and 8iviour J4een
Christ ? But yo onl msay tbis to tes s me,"
"You are a strange fellow, Netherton,"
exclaiWaed Herbert, touched by the earnest
ness with which he 'had spoke, 'qi~Od-
"Good-wight," replied Frank s little
heart w full. "1y9 do I know thought
hb a. he kneele4 dqwn beside the bed for
go,*nI# that he wa, not alone. Dewarard
Jeaus! beeaue I believe and traut fa te.
0,hO, sweet it is to believe ad tnret!"

70 FR'ANK -1tH Rules*

IE following morning, when Frank enteeed
the playground, Claude Hamilton came to
meet him with a smile on his countenance.
See," exclaimed he, have brought you
the book whidh you refused yesterday. I
thought you would like to read it."
"And: so i ~'hal," said Frank. "How
kind of you to think of it! But how came
you to know what happened yesterday ?
looked at you once or twice, and you appeared
to be completely absorbed in your favorite
'Keith's Prophecies?'
So I was; but I heard all that passed
notwithstanding, and was glad that you were
able to resist the temptsion. I determined
to procre the book f r you if possible today,
and here it is. But you must read it quickly.
You will fid it very interesting.!
Frank thakAed hiif gratefully, and ran
off with his prize to a large tree which stood
at the further end of the playground, and
in the branches of which he loved to sit and


read, swingla himself to and fro ll the
while with a peaumnt metio. It Ve na t
often that he permitted himself to indulge ip
this quiet lxuary, ad he comeaaeatly en-
joyed it all the more upon the presmirtoea-
sion. Frank was in the very piddle of the
story, when he was suddenly interrupted by
the loud voice of Philip Doyle, desiing him
to come down directly, as he wanted to take
his place.
"At any rate I must finish my book
first," said Frank, calmly. "I sha llot o e
very long."
"Just as if I should wait while you
finish your book! Come down at once, or
I will make you. You have no business
I did not kno* that the tree was yoars,"
said Frank.
"Never you mind whose it is, but come
down directly." Ad he gave one of the
branches a violent ahake as he spoke.
"Thank you," exclaimed Frank, laugh,
ing, and swinging backwards and forwardP s
It is very pleasant."
SYou had better come down," said How-


ard, who, together with several other boy
dM been attracted to the spot. "Theie is
other tree almost as good."
SI will come down when. I have iniahed
what I am about," replied Frank,", and not
before." *
"Take care, Doyle V" exclaimed Herbert,
as he again shook the tree with violence
Take care, Netherton! He might break
a limb if he fell."
"Then why does he not come down qui-
etly, when I bid hit ?"
"Why should he ?"
STell us a story, Netherton," called out
several of the boys, out of fun.
S"With all my heart," replied Frank, as
a sudden thought came into his mind.
"Once upon a time --"
Wil you come down?" shouted Doyle,
hoarse with passion.
( Keep off.. Wait until he has told h
story. He shall not be interrupted till
then, exclaimed the boys, laughing, as
they gathered around th4 tree. "Go on,
"During the war with France" said

Fank, "previom to 'the Bevolionm,
English drummer boy, having wandrasd
from his camp too ner the French lkes,
was taken prisoner, and brought beAfor t he
commander. On beg asked who whe
he answered that he was a drummer in ab
ESglish serve. It ppea that they took
him for a spy. A drum was set fo, .an
he was desired to beat aeouple of march,
which he immediately did. The IFrewsh
mana' suapicions, however, not being,
tirely removed, he commanded the druva
mer to beat a retreat A 'rerea, sir?'
replied the boy; I do not know what
that is.'"
,' LIvo, Netherton t' exclai.aed his
school-fellows. "You deserve your it,
and shall keep it You sbaB not 'beat a
retreat for anyone "
They bore off the struggling Doyle ia,
triumph, and Eank was left alone; -ut
sueehow their praise did not sake him
SAfter all" murwCed he, I eoph
have finished my book just as well any,
where ele. I wia pow that I had given

74 raFI ,K NITxzEaox
ap; sia o I would if he had asked b
He tried to go on with his reading, ba
the story seemed to have lost all ito intes
est; and aw few momeats afterwrd ..he
slipped quietly down from the tree, and
went to seek Philip Doyle. He found him,
as he had expected, all alona He was
leaning again the gate, hearing the top
of a-walking-etick into a lions head. He
looked up at Frank's approach, and his faee
was white with pasion.
*I am come to tell you that you esa have
the seat now,if you wish it. I would have
given it up at once if you had only asked
me properly; but I do not -ike being or-
dered to do a thing,"
Doyle tnade no reply; but, carried away
by the violence of his passion, he lifted tap
the heavy stick he was carving, and hit
Frank a blow with it apon the temple,
which felled him to the ground. Doyle
walked away without caring for the eflts
of hts cowardly attack. He did not think
how heavy the stick was, nor intend to hurt
FPank as much as he had done. When he

vx~awxl~r WIKU~RWlff 75EL

wni r Q-hki palI"ate te~hbe seMw
thought of anything, anad wo like ar d

For ~iverl moment Frank lay .on
pletely stunned. When he esmtoammelf,
harowe with dikflulty; and gaitimg the
house, without meeting any of his.oioipe-
ions, went up stairs inito- hi rosew, and
kneelig dwn by the bed,. rted hiwsas
ing head against it. He tried to pfty, but
his honghts were too confnsedu Pre ntly
he took out his little Bile# and o rgit
at the -h chapter of St. Mathn read
thus; "I say unto you, love your eemies,
bless them that curse you--and pray or
them wbieh despitefully use yot, and per
secute you; that ye msay. be th W-hildke
of your Father which is in heaven." -
SIt is a hard laeeon, murmured Frtak
"Dear Lord Jesus! help me to leamr itby
heart? ..
He was arnmsed, after a few impentby
*Iaoiee ofthe hoaekeeper. HBll, Mee
te Itetherted !" 'achlaimed she; Oywa afe
breaking rules. You have no busineies M
here at this time of the day." .. -.



I wanted to bathe my forehead4? aid
Prank, turning round.
"Poor child! you have hurt yourself i-
deed. Why, how did this happen ?"
SFrank did not reply.
Well, never mind; come with me, and
I will see what I can do for you."
Frank followed her, scarcely knowing
where he went. His head sched terribly;
but, after' a time, the cold applications,
tenderly applied by the rough but kind
hearted housekeeper, so far relieved him as
to enable him to rejoin his companions in
the schoolvom.-
Philip Doyle, who was standing near the
door, started, and changed conatenanee
when he looked at him.
Why, Netherton, what is the. matter ?"
exclaimed Claude Hamilton, coming hastily
It is my head," said Frank, trying to
smile; mid then stopping suddenly, nd
with diffiulty repressing a cry of pai
he added, "It hurts me a little wbe I
How did you do it''

H5i1e looks asi if be bad been g
img"i aid Rhton. Frank shook his he~
Did you fall off the tree, or did he do
it ? asked Howard, pointing to Doyle.
"Never mind," answered Frank. "It is
done, and it cannot be undone. I do not
mean to tell you any more; and I wish
you would not tease me."
SLeave him alone," said Claude Hamb
ton. "Does your head ache very nmua
Frank ?
'Yes,, very much; but Idare.say rt will
be better presenly, if I -uld only -b
quiet." And Frank sat down before hi
desk, and buried his flushed face in his
He did not sleep, but the .ha of the
seholroom seemed to go a long way oeF;
and the usher had to call to.him tr woi r
three times before he could be aroused to
reply. Claude Hamilton went immediately
and asked Mr. Campbell to exeu Frank
tie maSinder of hio lessons, as he id t
eet to be ery well, and he was oaoe m.m
left to himself.
When Frank again looked up, arotised

by the unuually kind voice of his eesin,
all the boys had gone except Frederiok
and Doyle, who stood, with his baek to-
wards them, drumming against the window-
"Will you not come to tea ?" said Fred-
erick. It may do your head goode"
"Thank you, yes; I will follow you in a
moment. I would rather that you did not
wait for me."
"But you will come ?" said Frtedrick,
lingering a moment; while Frank passed
his hand across his burning brow, aa.f to
recollegt himself.
Yes I promise ye h'
When his cousin lft him, Frank aroe
with difficulty, and crossing over to where
Doyle stood, said in a low voice, Philip,
the sun is almost down."
"Well, what of tht?" asked his com-r
peaion, without moving,:
t Does not. God say in his holy word-4
forget where now-' Let not the .su go
down upon your wrath?' See, it hoa nearly
disappeared. Let us be friends"
Philip Doyle turned round, and the

tes startedvito his ey eua glagsped the
Itly feri~ h hBand. eagwly extend to
him. Forgive me, Netherton/, assm sed
he. It was mean and cowardly in me to
strike you; but I did not mean to hurt you
thus, indeed I did not; and I am very sorry
for it."
"Let us go in together," said Frank,
" and then no one will suspect that you did
it I promise not to tell."
There was a sudden silence when they
entered the room. The boys ooked ~Cas
another in astonishment. ; -
"Then it was no Doyle,after alL~," whi
pered Howard to Bashton.. dare say
that he reRly did faoff the tre."
..Io you feel better; Fmauk' asked
Claude Hamilton.
"Yes, mwh better, thank you. I shal
be quite well to-morow, I hope.'
Philip Doyle hoped so too. He was
really sorry for what d apple ed but he
dared not eiprees too great an intert is
Praun, for iefr of exzitiag spaciM .&
shrank fmao the exposure of his own cow-
dly a-nd brutal csdet to one o mwuh


younger and weaker than himself; and felt
grateful to Frank for not betraying him to
his schoolfellows.

THOSE who slept in the same room with
Frank, heard him, as they said, talking and
telling stories all night long. The next
morning he was in a high fever. The
wound on his temple appeared to be much
inflamed; and Mr. Campbell, who had been
unavoidably absent fiem the schoolroom on
the previous day, was angry because he had
not been sooner informed of it. The best
medical advice was immediately procured,
and towards evening the fever appeared to
be somewhat abated.
What is thematter?" exclaimed Frank,
opening his eyes and seeing Mr. Campbell
standing by the bedside. Where am I '
"You have not been very well," replied
his preceptor soothingly. "But you are


better again-omly you must keep very
"I remember now," continued Frank,
raising his hand feebly to his head. "I
hope I have not said anything. I hope I
have not told who did it."
No, no; lie down, and try to sleep."
"My mind wanders sometimes," said
Frank, looking eagerly into Mr. Camp.
bell's face; "and I do not know what I
sihy then. I hope I have not betrayed any-
"Never fear; your secret is safe." A
"Thank God," said Frank. "I may te
him; but I must not tell anyone else, you
Mr. Campbell abstained from question-
ing, or even replying to Frank's vords.
"It is, then, as I suspected," thought he.
"Who can have done this ?"
Presently Frank spoke agsin. Have
you written to my father, sir '
".Not yet I shall await Dr. Ewart's
opinion when he comes this evening.'
"You d6 not think me likely to die,
sir ?"



'God forbid, my dear boy."
"Then do not write at all, please. I ea
bear a great deal of pain; but I cannot
bear to think of my father's uneasiness
He loves me so much. Perhaps he would
insist upon coming; and the journey might
kill him."
I will not write if you do not wish it;
and if you will try and be still, in order
that you may get better the sooner."
Yes, I will be very still" said Frank,
closing his eyes. "I will do anything
djou bid me-only do not write to my
Father "
He soon afterwards fell into a quiet
sleep; and ][r. Campbell, leaving him in
charge of the nurse, returned to the school-
room. Every voice was hushed as he en-
tered. Philip Doyle longed to speak, but
dared not.
"I hope poor little Netherton is not verse,
sir," said Claude Hamilton, at length, ob-
serving that Mr. Campbell looked unauually
pale and agitated
"I hope not. He has just fallen asleep.
It may restore him, Dr. Ewart says, or he

may awake an idiot! If Nethkrti dia,
God help and forgive him who struck tat
ciuel blow"
Philip Doyle shuddered and turned pale;
but so did many others at those solemt
"Then you think, sir, that the wound
could not have been occasioned by a mdre
fall?" said Claude Hamilton.
"I am sure of it, and with reason."
"Has my cousin told who did it ?" asked
"No; he never will tell. And.he m i
not be questioned."
Philip Doyle drew a long breath, and the
tears gushed forth.
"Never mind, Doyle," continued Mr.
Campbell, laying his hand kindly on his
shoulder, there is nothing to be ashamed
of; your little schoolfellow is worthy of
your tears I could almost have wept. my-
self, to hear him talk just now."
What did he say ? Did he ask for ite "
questioned Frederick, with the privilege of
'"No, he never mentioned your name."

And Mr. Campbell briefly related what had
"Poor little fellow !" said Claude Hamil-
ton. "Who could have the heart to injure
him ?"
Hamilton knew nothing about the dis-
pute between Frank and Doyle; and the
rest shrank from mentioning it: it seemed
such a terrible accusation to bring against
him, and was contradicted besides by the
friendly behavior of Frank towards him on
the previous evening. The whole affair
vseemedto be wrapped in mystery. Who-
ever the guilty person might be, everyone
felt that he was sufficiently punished in the
anxious interval that would elapse before
Frank awoke.
Mr. Campbell had given tIh boys a holi-
day--it was a sad holiday. A profound still-
ness reigned in the schoolroom, broken only
by an occasional whisper: but thought was
busy. We will not attempt to describe the
feelings of Philip Doyle; their impression
remained until his dying day. Recolle-
tions of unkind words and acts came back
to many a heart, and made it wish them


again unmaid and andone; bringing orrow
and repentance, when both, perhaps, wee
unavailing. Frederick recalled to mind
his mother's often-repeated injunctions to
be kind to his cousin, with a pang of self
upbraiding. He remembered how the frail
life of Mr. Netherbon was bound up in that
of his son; and he thought how differently,
he would behave to him in future, ifFrwak
were only to get well again. Claude Ham-
ilton had no aelf-acusations; but he loved
and was sorry for the boy, ad prayed in-
wardly that, if it were God's will, he mig
be restored to them. ,
As they sat together thus, the setting
sun peeped into that silent room, as if to
inquire what made them all so strngely
quiet. Philip Doyle could, not help think-
ing of Frank's words. "The sun is going
down," murmured he, "and may never rise
again for him. God be merciful to us
both !" And he leaned his head against
the window-ill, and sobbed aloud.
"Come, come," said Claude Hamilton
encouragingly; let us hope for the best
Ifnot "--and his voice faltered slightly;



"if not, Frank is ready to be take trutsd
in his Redeemer."
1"I did not think that Doyle would have
felt it so deeply," whispered Howard to
Rushton. He is sorry, I oppose, for what
passed between them yesterday."
Hush !" exclaimed Claude Hamilton:
"was not that a bell rung ? He must be
A few moments afterwards, Dr. Ewart
kindly looked in to tell them that Frank
had awoke much better, and that he hoped
all danger was past. "Thank God!" ex-
6laimed Claude Hamilton; and many a
voice was heard to say, Amen. Philip Doyle
uttered not a word. He felt as if a heavy
weight was lifted off his heart, and it was
filled instead with joy and gratitude.
You have not written, sir, have you V"
were Frank's first words, when he again
opened his eyes, and fixed them upon the
anxious countenance ofhis preceptor.
No; I promised that I would not, if you
got better. And you are better. You feel
better, do you not ?"
Yes," said Frank, "my head is much


easier. Will you teR mly oosio Frederick so,
mnd--" he was going to ay Philip Doyle;
but he oheeked himself adding instead < "and
the rest of my schoolfellows. I suppose I
may see some of them tom-orrwn sir ?"
"I do not know," replied Mr. Campbell;
"we must wait until to-morrow comes. Dr.
Ewart does not wish you to talk or think
more than you can help for the next few day."
"It seems hard not to be allowed to think,"
observed Frank, with a sigh. "But I must
try and bear it as patiently as I can, Do
not let me keep you, sir," added he, after
pause, during which Mr. Campbell was busy
arranging his pillows, in order thathe might
li more comfortably. "I promise tobe very
quiet. How kind yoa are tome MAnd he
put his little hand into that of his preeptor.
-Mr. Campbell waited until he again slept,
and then returned to the schoolroom, where
the boys, by his desire, still remained.
Let us return thanks to the Lord," said
e, that one among us has been this day
preserved from the commission of a great
crime. I never mean to ask any questioM
on the subject. The name of the offemdr



is known to God and that poor child whoi
has refused to betray it. To his God I leave
him. Let us pray." The boys kneeled down
in silence; and that solemn day was long
remembered by all of them.

SvRAnt days passed before Frank was
allowed to see any of his sehoolfellowL His
cousin was the first permitted to enter the
sick chamber; and, although he made no
apology for the past, or promises for the
future, Frank felt that he was changed, and
that they should be more like cousins and
friends for the time to come,
All Claude Hamilton's spare moments
were spent by the bedside of the little in-
valid, to Frank's great comfort avd delight ,
for there was no boy in the school whom he
liked so well, or whose friendship and good
opinion he was so anxious to gain. Howard
was also a constant visitor; but Philip Doyle
came not. At first, Frank was glad.


It is best -," thought he; 'theywoul
only have suspected something" But, by-
and-by, he began to feel hurt; nd in the
long, weary hours, when he lay suffering and
alone, it seemed unkind aandunnatural that
he who was the cause of all should keep
away thus, and make no effort to see and
be with him.
"I would not have acted so," murmured
Frank, on one occasion, half aloud. I
would have run any risk, had Ibeen i his
SForgive me," exclaimed a low voice by
his side; "I shall never forgive myself
But I have not forgotten you, Frank. I
have watched and listened at your door for
hours, when all the rest were asleep; and
every groan that you uttered went to my
SI would not have groaned, if I could have
helped it, had I known that you were there,
Phi ipp
"0 Frank!" continued Doyle, "if suffer
ing can atone for doing wrong, you have
been amply revenged."
But it cannot; nothing but theblood of


our Lord Jesus Christ can do t the
Iamb of God, which taketh away the in of
the world.' Besides, I do not want to be
I wish I could feel like you, Netherton,"
.said the once proud Doyle.
"You would not, if you knew all. Even
when you entered, my heart was fall of hard
and murmuring thoughts."
Ye, I know; you thought me a brute,
and no wonder. It was not so much the fear
lest the other boys should suspect something
which kept me away; but beesase I dreaded
to look upon what I had done. Bat this
evening, when I heard you talking to your-
self, all alone, I could not help creeping
"It was very wrong for me to talk," said
Frank. "Others might have crept in also.
I have got into the habit of taking to my-
self of late."
"Does your head pain you very much?0
asked Doyle, anxiously.
"No; scarcely at all now."
"0 Netherton, if you had died P.
I am glad that I did not," said Frank,

Sifo m fat her'sake,and for yo rvPhil4p.
(God has be very good toas alL"
Heha aideed. It will be a lo.eo to
me for my life."
At th*i moment Claude Hamilton entered
the room. He was glad to ee Doyle there,
and told him so
"You cannot think how anxious he was
abomt you," said he, turning to Frank.
Was he replied Frank, without look-
ing up
"If you had been his own brother he
could not have taken it more to heart. But
then we were all sorry for you."
"You are all very kind," said Frank.
He is better than you expected to fnd
him, eh, Doyle? It was a narrow eseapt
You are quite a hero, Netherton, and have
behaved like one. Do you remember, Doyle,
when youallealled him a talebearer, because
he took Howard's part in that affair of his
aboat Rushton? No one will ever call you
a talebearer again, Fraak."
SNo, never again. Bat do you not think
the guilty peraon ought to be knovR and
punished?" asked Philip Doyle, suddenly.


Certainly not What good would it do
Netherton, or anyone else? He has been
sufficiently punished: as Mr. Cnapbellsays,
let us leave him to God."
Being anxious to change the conversation,
Frank now inquired after Howard, and asked
the reason why he had not been to see him
as usual.
The old reason," replied Claude Hamil-
ton. "He is in disgrace again. I never
knew such a fellow; he is always getting into
some scrape. He told me that he was afraid
you would miss him, and guess the cause."
I did miss him," said Frank. "It ha
been a very long day."
It appears so to you, lying there; but I
assure you that I have found it short enough
for all I have had to do."
"Even when I am able to get up," con-
tinued Frank, with a sigh, Mr. Campbell
says that I must not be in a hurry to go on
with my studies. I shall be sadly behind-
hand. No prize, and no healthy color in
my cheeks, to make amends for it, as my
father said. Do I look very ill, Hamilton ?i
S" No, not very."

1 awxr w: H Bttor. 8
Pri~ m-sighed again; and as he did so he
felt a tear fall on his hand.
How dark it is !" said Clade Hamilton.
SSuppose I ask for a light, and read to you
a littlels
Thank you, I should like it very mEd.
Forgive me," added Frank, as he quitted the
room; pray forgive me, Doyle I had for
gotten that you were by. I shall soon be
well again, and make up forlost time. Who
knows but what I may carry off a prize after
all? It is -only working a little harder.
And now that we are friends you will hEp
me, will you not?"
"I will do anything in the world for you,
SThen try and cure yourself of those ter-
rible fits of passion, dear Philip. Do try,
for my sake;" and he put his little, thin
arms around the neek of his sehoolfellow,
as he bent over him. And ask- God to
help you, will you, Philip?"
0, if I could !" answered Doyle, whose
heart was completely subdued
I have heard," continued Fraak;" that,
among the superior classes of the Hindoso

it is customary to have in their dwellings a
particular apartment, which is called' KIwi-
hgar,' or' the chamber of anger,' ad into
which any member of the household whefeels
himself to be out of temper immediately re-
tires, remaining there until solitude has
calmed and tranquillized him. We mad,
also, that Plato retired to his cave to be wise.
Could not you manage to go.away whea you
feel the fit coming on-eomewhere where you
can be alone, and think, and pray ?"
"I am not much used to praying," said
"But if you only repeated the Lord's
prayer, it would keep away bitter thoughts.
You remember that part where it says, For-
give us our trespasses, as we forgive them
that tresspass against.us ?'
I am not like yoa, Netherton. I could
not come and hold out my hand to one who
had injured me."
"Yes you could, after a time. It wa
difficult at first," said Frank, thoughtfully.
"Cicero's rule, not to injure anyone unless
previoply injured, is easier to follow than
that of Christ, who bds us love oar enemies.


li weou be aier to forgive ot~rs if we
could only remember how much need we
have of forgivenes ourselves."
"You Iemiad me of Arobbishop Coa-
er," said Doyle; "of whom it is rco"ded,
that the way to have him for a friend was
to do him an unkindness."
"Hark !" interrpted Frank; "Hamilr
ton is returning. You will do what I sk
you, will you not, Philip?"
"Yes, I promise "
"With God's help."
"With God's help," repeated Doyle, so-
lemnly. "Good-night, Frank."
aGoodaight," answered Frank, as Ha-
milton entered; and thank you for stay-
ing with me so long. You wll come
"Certainly, if you wish it."
"What a strange fellow Doyle i I said
Claude Hamilton. ,"I did not think he
had so mn h feeling. It is wrpng of us to
judge ofe another. I shall like hinm et-
ter in future for his kindness to you. And
now, if you are quite comfortable.,. will
read you the concusion of the history of


the two children, who were cast away on the
desert island."
"I forget where I was," murmured
Frank. "How long ago it appears emoe I
began it! How much has happened sine*
then I I do not seem to care about it now;
for you know, it is not true. I would ra-
ther hear you read a chapter in the Bible,
Would you prefer any particular chap-
ter?" asked Claude Hamilton, good-na-
No, thank you. It is all truth there."
His companion turned to the twelfth
chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews; and
Frank listened, and was happy.
It is a happy thing to believe, as he did,
that the Scriptures are all truth; to be able
to look unto Jesus, the author and finisher
of our faith," and feel ourselves accepted and
forgiven for his name's sake. Thus only
can we serve God aeeeptably, with rever-
ence and godly fear." Out of Christ he is
"a consuming fire."



Tue next day Howard came as usual to see
Frank, but he. looked sad and dejected.
" You heard, I suppose," said he, "what
kept me away yesterday ?"
"I did not hear the particulars."
"It does not signify. It was the old
story. I am always.doing wrong, and. it
no use trying to do otherwise."
O, Howard, you must not say that so
"Why not? It is the truth."
But have youa reay tried ?"
"To be sure I have, again and again."
"And in the.way you promised, How-
SI forget now wat it was that I did pro
mise. I only know that I am wery of
king. Everythinggoes agaistme. How
do yu manage, Frank,,never to be in diu -
graSe?" .'
"Because I have a talisman," s J k
Atalisman I what, aeal talisman, such

as we read of in fairy tales? I thought
there was no truth in those things."
Frank smiled mysteriously.
How I should love to see it! What is
it like? Is it a ring that prieks you whet-
ever you are about to do wrong.'
No, it is a lamp."
Howard had read of Aladdin and the
wonderful lamp; and he remembered some-
thing about a lamp invented by Sir Hum-
phrey Davy; but Frank told him that it
did not resemble either of those, but was
called David's lamp.
"Was that the name of the inventor ?"
asked Howard.
"No; the lamp existed, although in an
incomplete state, before David's time but it
was he who gave it that name."
And what do you do? Do you rub it'
inquired Howasd, stii thinking Aladdin.
"No; I ead it.
SI understand now," exaimed Howa,
with a slight accent of diappointamet.
"You have been talking of the Bi l all

STew, replied atk, the word of God

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