Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 George Watson's motto
 Plans and trials
 One way is open
 Another way opens
 How the plan answered
 Harry's way
 A way for Ruth
 Ups and downs
 Recreation and reward
 Ways of helping others
 Back Cover

Group Title: Ninepenny series--
Title: Find a way or Make it, or, George Watson's motto
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082001/00001
 Material Information
Title: Find a way or Make it, or, George Watson's motto
Series Title: Ninepenny series--
Alternate Title: George Watson's motto
Physical Description: 80 p. : ill. (some col.) ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: S. W. L ( S. W. Landor )
Religious Tract Society (Great Britain) ( Publisher )
William Rider and Son ( Printer )
Publisher: The Religious Tract Society
William Rider and Son)
Place of Publication: London
Publication Date: c1893
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Students -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Teachers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Success -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Diligence -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Books -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1893   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre: Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Statement of Responsibility: by S.W.L. ; illustrated by Frank Dadd.
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00082001
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232655
notis - ALH3051
oclc - 213098681

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Advertising 1
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Title Page
        Page 1
    Table of Contents
        Page 2
    George Watson's motto
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
    Plans and trials
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
    One way is open
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    Another way opens
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
    How the plan answered
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
    Harry's way
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
    A way for Ruth
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
    Ups and downs
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Recreation and reward
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
    Ways of helping others
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Advertising 2
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



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S. W. L.

'Stern daughter of the Voice of God !
0 Duty! if that name thou love.

There are who ask not if thine eye
le on them: who, in love and truth
Where no misgiving is, rely
Upon the genial sense of youth:
Glad hearts! without reproach or blot,
Who do thy work and know it not."-
















S 10


S 24

S 30



S 50


S. 66



It was a noble Roman
In Rome's imperial day,
Who heard a coward croaker,
Before a castle, say:-
"They're safe in such a fortress;
There is no way to shake it."
"On I on exclaimed the hero,
"I'll find a way or make it."
E words rang in George Watson's ears
Sas he trudged home from Midgely
Grammar School one dull December
evening. It was getting quite dark, and the
wind was bitterly cold. George's coat was
old, and he was getting too big for it; so he
put his hands as far down in the pockets as


possible, stuck up the collar, and ran quickly
For two years he had taken this walk morn-
ing and evening; and, at holiday times, the
children living in the roadside cottages be-
tween Royton and Midgely quite missed him.
George was so punctual that they used him as
a sort of clock.
"George Watson has just passed" meant
"It is half-past eight" or "half-past four," or
whatever the time usually was when they saw
-It was too cold and dark for the boy to learn
his recitation on .the way this evening, so he
repeated the little song by way of making the
lonely road seem shorter. Find a way or
make it, find a way or make it,"-the words
seemed a sort of refrain stamped out by his
stout boots on the frosty road.
George looked more serious than usual, for
just now his heart was heavy and an unusual
gravity was clouding his bright open face. He
was a strong healthy lad of fourteen or so, and
hitherto his life had been smooth and pleasant.
No sorrow had come to him more serious than
that the little troubles of school life had
The Watsons lived in a rambling old-


fashioned house, with a large garden in the
rear, and more out-buildings than are generally
found in newer residences. George's father
was clerk in a manufactory at Midgely, but
preferred to live at Royton because of the
purer air for his five children, of whom George
was the eldest. Harry, the next in age, was
an invalid. A careless nurse had let him fall
when a baby, and his spine had been so much
injured that he must always be a cripple. It
was chiefly for his sake that his father was
willing to walk to Midgely and back every
Ruth, her mother's comfort, was eleven, and-
the twins, Jean and John, were seven. Six
months before this evening when George was
on his way home, Mr. Watson had been out
with his four healthy children for a long holi-
day walk. They were all in the highest spirits,
and little John especially was having great fun
with a small stick.
No one quite knew how it happened, but, as
the father stooped to pick a flower for Jean,
Johnnie's little stick, thrown in play, struck his
eye, causing great pain. At first it was not
considered as a cause for anxiety, but next day
Mr. Watson could not use this eye. Nor had
he even yet any prospect of doing so, for the


London oculists, whom at great expense he
had consulted, said that perfect rest was the
only means of saving the sight not only-of the
injured eye, but that of the other also.
It will be easily understood that this in-
volved a serious loss of income. All the
children needed education, and not one was
able to earn anything. George wanted to try
to do so, but his parents were very anxious to
keep him at school another year, though it was
difficult to know how to pay the fees. They
knew he would lose much by being taken from
studies which he was old enough to value, and
intelligent enough to appreciate and enjoy.
But George was also old enough to feel
keenly the changes in the home life caused by
want of money. The one servant had been
dismissed, and Mrs. Watson taught all her
younger children.
All of them had continued to wear the
clothes which had served for the previous
year. Every superfluity had been banished
from the table; the strictest economy
prevailed; yet, as the winter came on, the
parents grew anxious lest their slender re-
sources should fail before the bread winner
could resume his work.
The elder children shared this anxiety to


some extent, but how could they assist their
parents and lighten the burden of care ?
"Find a way or make it!" rang out the
sturdy footsteps on the flagstone path that led
to the front door.
"George is coming! shouted the little ones,
who had been peering into the darkening
twilight, watching for the brother at whose
coming every face brightened. The mother
carefully stirred the small fire and made a
cheerful blaze that lit up the cosy room.
Ruth made the tea. Harry limped to his
seat at the table, which was always next to
George-for the brothers were warmly attached
to each other-the twins ran to take satchel
and coat and cap, and insensibly the bonnie
face of the schoolboy lost its careworn
How jolly you all look! It's such a dull
cold night, father; I'm glad you didn't come
to meet me; the wind is like a knife. Well,
Jackie, how is the poor sparrow ? "
Oh, it's all right, George, and we let it fly
again after dinner. Mother did not like us to
keep it any longer, and it did seem glad to fly
off again now its leg is better."
Look, George, at my wee kittie," said Jean;
"Its eyes are open now," and with such trifles


of news the happy family gathered round the
table and ate their bread in thankfulness and
contentment, while George gave a lively ac-
count of every little incident he could
remember in his day's experience.
"Father has been out to-day," said Harry.
Yes," said the father, I went as far as old
Street's house. He is extremely ill, and evi-
dently dying. I greatly doubt if he will live
till to-morrow."
"Poor old man!" said Mrs. Watson, "I
used to be so sorry for him last winter. He
seemed scarcely able to walk to Midgely, and
used to be half frozen before his papers were
delivered. I wonder who will take his post
as newsvendor? "
"It is a pity we have no bookseller's shop
here," said Ruth. "We want you to get us
some exercise books to-morrow, George, for
the children's lessons."
"No, not to-morrow; it is Saturday, you
know, and George will be at home."
"Why, he is in a brown study! What is
it about, old fellow?"
"Oh," laughed George, "I've got a tune
in my head and it won't be still. No, you
can't play it, Ruthie; it is a bit of poetry we
had to learn to-day, and I am going to take. the


advice it gives if I can. 'Find a way or make
it.' Is not that a good motto, father ? "
"Yes, if the goal to which you want the way
be a good and right one, -my boy. A stout
heart and courageous attempts to overcome diffi-
culties are of great service. But your motto
only gives half a truth. There is another word
of direction and advice. 'Trust in the Lord
with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine
own understanding.' Keep that one in mind,
George, as well as the other motto, or you may
never find the way you want."
'"Yes, father, I'll try to remember both.
Coming along to-night it seemed so easy to
do if one only knew what to do. I can't find
a way yet, but I mean to make one if I can."
But he did not say what the goal was, and
his father did not ask him.



" EORGE," said Ruth next morning, as he
helped her to get breakfast.ready, "I
wish we had hens of our own. Mrs.
Merry sent father two eggs yesterday, but she
said her hens were so obstinate they would not
lay when eggs were scarce and she could get a
good price for them; but as soon as eggs were
plentiful she had enough and to spare."
George laughed with Ruth over the old
woman's complaint.
I don't know much about hens," he said,
"but they make a garden very untidy. You
would want a 'run' for them, and that would
cost money."
"There's that old wood shed," said Harry,
who was sitting in his chair by the fire as
usual; "could the hens roost there, and be let
into the garden only for exercise? I wonder


how much hens would cost apiece. We have
not much pocket money now, and mother could
not spare any."
"Mrs. Merry has some young pullets that
will soon begin to lay, she says. They would
cost less than older hens,"
"It's a good idea, Ruthie. I'll run round
after breakfast and ask, and Harry shall look
at the shed and give us his opinion thereon."
This meant that George would wheel his
brother's chair into the garden, and give him
something new to think about.
Saturday was always a very busy day for all
the children, but Ruth had a few minutes'
leisure at noon, and then her brothers reported
that a few yards of wire netting would be all
that was required for a good-sized run" at-
tached to the old shed in which the fowls might
have their nest and could sleep at night, and
that the pullets might be had at one shilling
and sixpence each. Mrs. Merry thought an
older hen would not agree with the young ones,
so advised the boys to have the latter only, and
at least two of them.
"Now as to the cash," said Harry, his pale
cheeks flushed with excitement. "We want
about five shillingsyou see."
Ruth's face fell. I have not five pence," she


said. "Oh, George, I do wish we could earn
money! It is so hard to see mother always
at work for us, we seem to do nothing for her.
She has taken her warmest dress to pieces to
make some for Jean and me, and she is getting
so thin and pale! and the little girl's eyes
filled with tears as she thought of the gentle,
patient mother.
Find a way or make it," repeated George.
"We will all try to find some way of help, and
perhaps it will be easier than it seems now we
are all determined. But come, old man," he
continued, noticing the tears in Harry's eyes as
the poor lad realized how little he could do.
"Let us make the best of this glorious sunset.
We shall have time to get to the Firs before
the glow has quite gone, and it is not too cold
for you.'"
So he wheeled Harry's chair down to the
gate, and Ruth went back to her work.
Harry could draw very well for a boy of
eleven, and had lately begun to sketch. The
Firs" to which they were going were a few
Scotch pines that formed a group at a corner
of the winding road beyond Royton. The sun
set just behind them in winter, and Harry's
artistic eye had caught the beauty of the scene
many times. He had now, as usual, a little


sketch block with him, and George waited while
he endeavoured to make an outline picture
which he could fill up at home.
While he was thus engaged a carriage passed
the corner.
"Are you not Mr. Watson's boys ?" said a
pleasant voice. "How. is your father? What
are you doing there?"
Harry shyly passed his little block to the
motherly lady, whom he recognized as Mrs.
Hamilton, the wife of his father's employer at
"Capital," said she. "You are quite an
artist. Have you made many sketches ?"
"During the summer he did a good many,"
replied George, "and he paints them too
"I wonder now if he could do those
menu cards for us," said Mrs. Hamilton
to her companion, a young lady on a visit
to her. "Send me some of your best pic-
tures, Harry; perhaps we may find some-
thing for you to do" she continued, as they
drove off.
"Do you think she really meant it, George ?
I'm afraid I have nothing good enough to send
her. What was it she wanted ?"
I don't quite know. She said 'men u'


cards; mother will tell us. Come along, you
are quite shivering with cold."
No, no, I am not a bit cold; but oh, George,
if I could do anything "-the boy's voice failed
as the blissful hope arose in his loving heart.
"Mother," inquired George at tea-time,
"what are menu cards 2"
They are cards on which is written a list of
dishes provided for dinner or supper parties,"
replied his mother. It has become the fashion
to have these very ornamental and artistic.
Sometimes they are of porcelain, and then the
list is written in a way that allows of erasure;
but often the cards are printed for the occasion.
What made you ask ?"
The boys told her, and, after tea, Harry
turned over his portfolio in search of his best
efforts. They looked very poor when he
thought of the reason for his choosing them,
but his mother cheered him by saying that the
later ones showed improvement, and the sketch
of the fir trees was best of all.
You can do one or two more on Monday, if
it is fine," she said ; "but try now to put them
away entirely, and bear no burden on the
Sabbath day."
"Ruth," said Harry, as the elder children
clustered together, while their mother was


putting the younger ones to bed, "if only
I can do what Mrs. Hamilton wants I never
thought there would be any way for me to
help except by hearing Johnnie's lessons. It
is so hard to be so useless "
"But you are not useless, Harry. Just
think how dull poor father would be if he
had no one to read to him, and no one to talk
to when mother is busy. You help me very
often, and, as father says, waiting is the hardest
work. It is I who do so little. Mother takes
all the heavy and troublesome things to do.
When I sit down even to lessons, I always feel
as if I ought to be helping her, but she does it
"You are both better off than I," said
George ; "for you don't cost anything, while I
feel there are the fees for next term nearly
due. I've thought, and thought, and thought,
but there does not seem any way to take or
make, in spite of the old saying."
Children," said the father's quiet voice,
"don't carry to-morrow's burdens."
We did not know you had come in, father
dear. We were only wishing for some way to
help you and mother. Don't you think I had
better leave school ? "
It would be a great grief to me if you had


to do so, George. 'It is not as if this straitness
were likely to be permanent. In six months,
please God, I may be again free to work for
you all, and the little you could earn in that
time, even if there were a situation ready for
you, would be of little value compared with
the advantage of continuing at Midgely school.
No, my son, your way thus far is plain enough.
If there is any other plan that can be tried,
we must ask to be shown what it is, but I see
none at present. Cheer up, my children, you
are learning some of the best lessons, and such
as can only be learnt by experience. And even
if you do not find the way you seek, George,
you will be the manlier and the stronger for
this effort.
"Not vainly has he lived who can endure,
By bearing right our daily burdens, comes fresh strength
to bear."
The children went thoughtfully to rest, with
a calm and hopeful feeling that things were
going to be quite right, even if they were not so
pleasant as might be desired.



HEN George went to rest on Saturday,
the whole landscape was shrouded in
white mist. It was with a glad feel-
ing that he would not have to trudge to
Midgely that he drew up his blind in the
twilight of Sunday morning. The window
was covered with a delicate tracery of frost,
and he called to Harry to look at the lovely
little views of palm and forest which his fancy
formed on the frosted panes.
Gradually the light increased. The red sun
threw a glory over everything, and as they
watched it, both boys exclaimed, "Oh, how
lovely!" Through a clear place they had a
glimpse of the outside world. The mist had
settled on the trees, and turned into crystals of
ice. Every twig was outlined with sparkling
.diamonds. Every blade of grass, every little


ledge or leaf held its share of the exquisite
George hastened to get out of doors for a
few minutes before breakfast, while Harry
longed to be able to reproduce in a sketch the
fading glory of that morning hour.
"Fairy-land," said Ruth, to the little ones.
" A heavenly morning," said the old milkman.
Everybody felt cheered by the surrounding
No burden on the Sabbath," was the
resolve of Mr. Watson, as he left his care and
anxiety at the feet of his heavenly Father,
and went with his children to the house of
They had almost forgotten the worries and
plans of yesterday; but when the glorious
one hundred-and-forty-fifth Psalm was read,
George was struck by its suitability to his own
case, and suddenly remembered his determina-
tion as the promise came to him:-
"He will fulfil the desire of them that fear
Him; He also will hear their cry and will help
"Lord help me," was the prayer of his
boyish heart, as he glanced at the dear father
at his side, and noticed his mother's pale grave


face, and a new strength was given to his
resolution to find some way of helping his
parents in this trying time.
"Show me Thy way," was added to the
motto of the Roman soldier in George's mind,
and his young heart began to understand the
comfort of having a Guide in the daily paths
of duty and enterprise.
Curiously enough, as it seemed, the lesson in
the afternoon at the Sunday school, to which
George always went, was on Moses' charge to
Joshua:-" Be strong and very courageous,"
and again the lad was almost unconsciously
helped. His teacher dwelt upon the fact that
for every God-given duty, there was God-given
strength and wisdom. We can always do
what we ought," he said.
"But how can we know what we ought to
do ? asked George.
If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of
God," said his teacher. This direction is for
temporal as well as spiritual business, for both
are alike under God's control."
After lessons were over, the librarian was
glad of George's assistance in exchanging the
children's books. This afternoon he was busy
also in taking the names of the subscribers for


the various serials for the coming year. George
noticed that Mr. Moore, an old and highly
respected teacher, became confused by the
number of the periodicals required, and offered
to take the names for him.
"Do so, my boy," replied the teacher, "your
young head may be clearer than mine."
So George made out the list, and took it
home with him to make a fair copy for the
As he was on his way, Mr. Watson came
out of a cottage by the side of the street, and
George ran to overtake him.
How is the old man, father ?"
Well," replied Mr, Watson. "'He shall
hunger no more, neither thirst any more.'
How much that means to one whose life here
has been for years almost a continual hunger
and thirst! We shall miss the dear old saint,
though, and there seems no one able to take
his place."
"How did he get his living, father ?"
"Besides the few papers he sold on com-
mission," replied his father, "he did a few odd
jobs, chiefly cobbling; but his strength has
failed lately, and but for the help of neigh-
bours he must have starved. Until last week he


walked to Midgely with messages and parcels,
bringing back the weekly newspapers. Friends
helped him with food and clothing from time
to time, but he seldom knew what we should
consider comfort."
"But he was not always so poor, was he ? "
No; in his younger days, Mr. Street was a
strong, healthy man, and fairly prosperous;
but he had not then the happiness of loving
and serving God, which came to him through
his trials. To him, as to many of us, sorrow
was the way that led him to Christ, and he
was happier in his poverty than he had been
when comparatively rich."
George thought of this as they entered the
cosy room where the bright firelight gleamed
on the cups and plates on the tea-table, and
where everything spoke of loving care and
kindness in spite of anxiety and straitened
He wondered what sort of a boy the old man
had been, and if he had ever had the chance
of being a hero. "To endure" seemed to the
active lad a very difficult and undesirable kind
of heroism. What to do was the thing he
sought, yet he felt that Harry might still be as
brave as he, if not so actively useful.


His father noticed the thoughtful expression
of his son's face, and, when they were going
alone to evening service, suddenly said to
My son, have you found the way that old
Mr. Street travelled on?"
"No, father."
Are you seeking it ?"
"I don't want to suffer, father."
"What has that to do with it ? "
"You said that sorrow led most people to
the Saviour."
"True; but not all people. And sorrow is
not the way to God, my boy. It may lead us
to seek Him, but there is a sorrow that worketh
"But must we not be sorry for our sins ?"
"Yes; but the more we know of the love
of God, the greater will be that sorrow. The
only way to God is outside ourselves, not
something within us. Jesus said: I am the
way, .... no man cometh unto the Father
but by Me.' Seek Him, my boy, with the
earnestness of one who determines to succeed;
and may God enable you to find Him !"
That was a memorable evening in George
Watson's life. A glimpse of something more
important and desirable even than the way to


help his parents was granted him; and, with
all the ardour of his earnest thorough-going
disposition, he set himself to seek it. Many
months elapsed before he could quite realise
what God required of him, but at length
promise was fulfilled to him: "They that
seek Me early (that is, earnestly) shall
find Me." And joy, not sorrow, was the


EW boys knew less than George Watson
of what older people call "reaction;"
but something was the matter on
Monday morning. He was not ready to get
up when his mother's gentle call awoke him,
and was so long over dressing that he had
scarcely time to clean the boots and the knives
before his hurried breakfast.
How dull the road was that morning! The
rime had fallen and made mud, and the
dripping trees were by no means as lovely as
' they appeared on the previous day. A damp
mist clung to George's hair, and he was quite
in sympathy with its influence.
Lessons cheered him a little, and the noble
Roman" came to his further help. In the
interval after dinner he asked permission to
go to the stationer's for the exercise books
which his sister wanted for the children.


As he stood waiting to be served, hi ,-. e'r-
heard the following conversation teenen
Mr. Smith, the proprietor of the shop, and a
"Yes; my missus was main vexed to miss
her paper on Saturday. She allus looks for
me to read it to her while she sews on the
buttons for Sunday."
It was a pity you did not get a neighbour
to call for it."
"Well, somehow we didn't think of it; old
Street has brought it so regular for years. I
don't know what we shall do without him."
Is there no other person who could take up
the old man's work?"
Why, you see, it took up all his time, and
the pay wouldn't keep a healthy boy, let alone
a man. The walking would be too much for
weakly folk. Anyhow, I don't know anybody
who would do it as he did."
"Well, good-day." So saying, Mr. Smith
came round to George. While serving him he
inquired after his father, and asked if he knew
of any person in Royton able to undertake the
distribution of the weekly papers.
"For anyone who could come to Midgely
every day," said he, "there would be some
daily papers also. Several gentlemen have


their newspapers by post who would prefer to
receive them on the day of publication, and
they would pay well too; but I can't afford to
send a messenger so far on purpose."
As George returned towards school a sudden
idea rushed into his head, and he ran back to
the shop.
"Mr. Smith," said he, hurriedly, "how
many papers would there be ? Do you think
I could take them on my way home ?"
"You ? Why, I did not think "-but here the
good man remembered to have heard that
the Watsons were a good deal straitened in
circumstances by the long holiday of the
bread-winner-" talk it over with your father,
and I'll think about it, and let you know."
George had a sharp run back to be in time,
and this new idea did not help his lessons.
He tried to forget it, but it stuck to him, and
as soon as school was over he hastened off so as
to get time to think. The muddy road was
quite unnoticed, and he was surprised to find
himself at home much earlier than usual.
Harry had had a busy day, and was excited
and peevish.
"Oh, George, how late you are! I did so
want you to see these before I sent them, and
it is nearly post time. Yes, of course, it is the


parcel for Mrs. Hamilton. How could you
forget it ? I have been touching up my best
sketches all day, and mother thinks they are
George shared this opinion; but he tried to
cheer Harry, and took the precious parcel to
the post-office before changing his boots, for-
bearing to contradict or annoy the over-excited
little invalid.
"What is the matter, George?" said his
father, as the boy sat, after tea, gazing at the
lamp, with his lesson books before him.
"Father, may I take old Street's work?"
George was too excited to put his wish into
other words.
"Street's work !" echoed his mother.
"Street's work!" repeated Harry and
"Will you have a big brown bag and a shiny
hat, George ? asked John.
George blushed. "I mean-that is I want-"
he stammered.
Come, my son, tell us what you do mean.
Be quiet, children, and let your brother ex-
It seems the 'way,' father," said the boy,
a3 he unfolded his new plan. "Mr. Smith said
I was to ask your opinion. It would not hinder


me, and on Saturdays I could easily go in and
out as I do on other days."
George said nothing of the cricket and foot-
ball contests to which he had hitherto devoted
most of his Saturday afternoons, and of which
he was as fond as any active school-boy is
likely to be. He had fought the battle with him-
self about such things on his way home. Nor
did his father allude to them. He saw, with grati-
fication, that the boy was bravely resolved to
do his best, so he gravely listened to the scheme.
"Will it pay ?" he asked. "You must give
much of your leisure to it, and it will involve
extra walking and some fatigue. I must know
something of what results are likely to follow
from this outlay before deciding. But I thank
you, dear lad, for so willingly sharing our
burdens. Get on now with your lessons, while
I think it over."
Next day, while George was at school, his
father and little Ruth called on the stationer,
who was also the proprietor of the weekly local
paper. They took a long time for the consul-
tation, and the result of it was given to the boy
as he sat with his father in the quiet hour
before bed-time that evening.
"I have seen Smith, George, and this is all
he can guarantee at present. It will involve


much work at first, but if you are willing to
try for a quarter, you may do so. I am glad
that you will be free from school duties, just
at first, and by the time the holidays are over
you will have gained some idea of your under-
taking, and some experience."
George took the little paper on which was
written his probable earnings. He made a
rapid calculation, and exclaimed, "That would
help towards my school fees, father !"
"'But think of the shoes," said his mother;
"and being out in all weathers, even on
"Yes, it would not do to miss a day, nor
the delivery of a paper. If people are once
disappointed you will not easily regain their
"We could take some of the papers," said
Ruth; especially on Saturday afternoons. You
couldn't carry a hundred papers, George."
"Mr. Smith has promised to send them
every Friday night," remarked Mr. Watson;
"but George would have to call for the daily
papers, and for any he wished to deliver on his
way home. Count the cost, my boy, and we
will all ask God to guide you. Sleep upon it,
and pray over it, and tell me your decision
to-morrow even ng."



s may be expected, George was eager to
begin his new occupation. His father
advanced some money as capital, saying
that the customers for daily papers would only
pay once a quarter, and therefore George must
have sufficient to cover more than one week's
Mr. Smith made known the lad's intention,
and secured the twelve daily customers; while
George, by studying the local directory, easily
made a list of one hundred families who might
become weekly subscribers for the favourite
local newspaper.
His brothers and sisters entered heartily
into his plans. Harry promised to fold his
papers. Ruth and the twins were ready to
help to deliver them; and the gentle mother
quietly set aside her own reluctance and mis-


giving, feeling that her boy's education was
being helped by this self-reliant effort.
Thursday was the last school day before the
Christmas holidays, and when the New Year
began, George was to make his first attempt as
Great surprise was expressed by some of
his neighbours, but all recognized the noble
aim of the boy, and many encouraged him by
cheering words.
Among the latter was Mr. Moore, the old
librarian of the Sunday-school.
When George took to him the list of the
children who were intending to subscribe for
the monthly serials, Mr. Moore said, "I have
been thinking, George, about these books. We
do not like selling them on Sundays; but few
of our scholars can pay in advance, and if the
books are allowed to be taken without payment
at the time, we often lose the money altogether.
This is bad for the children as well as for us.
Now, if you care to take the trouble to receive
and deliver the monthlies, we should be very
much obliged to you. There is generally
about five pounds' worth in a year, and the
profit should be from one pound to twenty-five
shillings; not a large sum, nor, perhaps, worth
the trouble."


"I'll speak to father about it," said George,
and if he thinks I may try, perhaps you will
tell me how to get them? "
Mr. Watson was a little afraid of overtaxilig
his son's business powers, but considering that
he himself would be at hand to advise and
direct, he consented to this new venture.
When, a few days before the New Year
opened, the parcel arrived, and the various
magazines had to be sorted and distributed,
George felt he had, indeed, set up in
He felt this in a less agreeable manner on
the first Saturday.
Early in the morning he walked to Midgely,
and it was nearly noon before he returned,
having left his twelve dailies and about twenty
weeklies on his way back.
Directly after his early dinner he took part
of the remainder to houses near home, return-
ing for more when they were sold. But it
took him much longer than he had expected. So
many people kept him to ask. after his father
and to discuss his work, that the short winter
day had closed long before his weary feet
turned homewards for the last time, and a
dozen papers were still unsold.
Never had George felt so tired. His eyes


closed even before he had finished his tea.
His mother told him to lie down on the couch
till she had put the children to bed. She
then roused him to take a warm bath, and gave
him a basin of bread and milk before he finally
went to sleep. George slept like a top for
twelve hours.
"He will never be able to do it," she said
to her husband. "How can he bear all this
fatigue in addition to his school work ? "
"It is always the beginning that is diffi-
cult," replied his father. "We will let him
make a fair trial while his holiday lasts, and
watch over him without his being aware of it.
I do not like to discourage the boy. Let him
feel his strength and find out his weakness.
He is not taking work from anyone else, and
you know how sorely we need some new source
of income."
During the next week George became more
used to his work. He had many orders, from
the servants of the houses to which his daily
delivery took him, for magazines and other
periodicals. Some of these his father would
not permit him to order, but recommended in
place of them some better publications, which,
in most cases, were accepted.


Never allow your hands to be polluted by
money gained by the sale of rubbish," said he.
" A good book is like good seed; but who can
tell where the bad influence of a vile one. may
extend ? "
In this way George had established, quite a
good connection before his return to school.
It seemed to him a long time since he had
been a happy, light-hearted, thoughtless, little
school-boy as he entered the familiar gates
once more.
Hallo! here's the newsboy! shouted a
schoolfellow. Morning pa-a-per-morning
Which will you have, sir ?" replied George,
good-humouredly. "'Sorry I've brought none
with me."
"What's the joke ?" cried another, who lived
at a distance, and had not heard of George's
business. "I say, Watson, why were you not
at the Black Pond last week? thought you
must be ill? We had a jolly time on the
I was too busy," replied George, with a
sigh at the remembrance of his unused skates.
"Do you really sell the papers ?" asked
another boy.


What do you do it for, Watson ?" inquired
a fourth.
He's succeeded to old Street's business,"
said a fifth, and George had to bear plenty of
banter and school-boy jokes for some days.
He was, however, a favourite with most of the
boys, and, finding that he bore all their fun
without getting vexed, and that he was really
trying to help his father, they gradually left
off teasing him. Some held themselves aloof
from him for a time, but others let him get
periodicals for them, and got orders from
their parents.
What was it that made George Watson so
bravely persevering in his self-appointed task ?
Nothing less thanthe Psalmist's resolve, Teach
me Thy way and I shall keep it." If this was
the way that God had opened for him to over-
come his father's difficulties, then all he had to
do was to take it.
Often did his feet still ring out the old tune
on the frosty road, but seldom could he finish a
verse before, at one house or another, he would
have to call on business. He found his time
for homework sadly cut short, and often had to
finish in the morning lessons that should have
been done overnight.


His pale face and sleepy eyes often troubled
his watchful mother; but, gradually the
responsibility weighed less heavily, and
the stout young heart rose bravely to its
George never complained, but gratefully
acknowledged the help that every one at home
was ever ready to give him to the fullest extent
of their power.



VERY one had been so taken up with
George's plan. that only Harry and
his mother had thought much of the
parcel of sketches sent to Mrs. Hamilton the
week before Christmas.
Poor Harry! It was so hard to watch the
postman, as he never failed to do, day after
day, calling now on this side of the road, now
on that, often coming to the Watson's own door
with parcels and letters for George, but never
with the letter for which the sad-eyed boy
watched and waited.
His mother began to dread post-time. Some-
times when the letters were brought in-she
would go to Harry and stroke his head with a
touch that told him how she, too, watched.
"Patience, Harry," she often said.
Mrs. Hamilton is, no doubt, busy with her


Christmas guests. She will remember your
sketches when she has more leisure."
But the cards were for a party," the boy
would reply. "She wanted them soon, and it
will be too late now."
Mrs. Watson at length persuaded him to set
to work once more and make some new pic-
tures. The cold weather kept him indoors a
good deal, and but for folding the papers and
sorting the magazines, he would have found
time pass very slowly.
George had not much time now to spend
with his brother, though he, too, wondered
why Mrs. Hamilton had not written. He urged
Harry to copy some of the pretty vignettes
from the periodicals by way of a change, and
tried to cheer him in many ways.
When Harry's packet of sketches reached
Mrs. Hamilton, that lady was extremely busy
with preparations for the Christmas family
gathering. Her children were coming from
school, and her own brothers and sisters usually
joined them. A host of letters and notes lay
on her table waiting replies, as Eleanor Rupert,
her visitor and companion, handed over the
poor little pictures on which so much anxious
care had been spent.
"Dear me! these would never do for our


party, Eleanor; I am sorry I gave the poor
child any idea of what I wanted them for.
That little bit of the pines is really the only
passable one. What shall we do ?"
Would it not be best for me to take them
back, auntie, and explain this to them ? He
has really taken too much pains and needs a
little teaching; but there is a good deal of
artistic taste in some of them. He might be
able to do some for a less important occasion."
"Well, dear, will you just take charge of
them, and do what you can to soften poor
Harry's disappointment ?"
So the packet was laid aside. Miss Rupert
intended to go to Royton next day, but she was
called away suddenly to pay another visit, and
it was not until the first month of the New
Year was nearly past that she returned to
Then it was that, turning over some letters
that had been left in a drawer during the busy
weeks of her absence, she came upon the
"Oh, auntie," she cried," what can we do
with these ? It was really very thoughtless of
me to forget them. How can I return them
Mrs. Hamilton's kind heart was equally


grieved by the omission. She thought for a
moment before she said:
Eleanor, do you think you could spare time
to give the boy a few lessons? Your own
paintings are very pretty, and you have had
good masters. It would help to lessen his
"That is a good idea, auntie; but I am
afraid my teaching won't be of much use. Let
me see. Here are some bits of cardboard and
one or two porcelain tablets. Have we any
paint-box that we could take ? "
"There is one that Ernest has discarded
since his grandfather made him a present of his
new one. The paints are small, but good of
their kind, and there are some brushes still
usable I think."
"Capital! it will be much better than a new
box of inferior make. I will walk over this
afternoon, and you can pick me up on the way
back from your drive."
The postman's zig-zag way down the street
had ended, as usual, with nothing for Harry
Watson. He turned from the window with a
sigh. George had gone to school. Ruth was
out with John and Jean. Father had gone
to pay his periodical visit to the oculist.
Mother was busy.


Life seemed a great mystery to the suffering
boy. He had thought that God had made a
"way" for him even before George's new idea
was started. But his brother had successfully
begun to work, and he was still the useless one.
Like many older people, Harry imagined that
only work which brought immediate payment
in money was useful; and, just now, he longed
to be earning something.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat." Who could that be ?
Harry brushed away the tears from his cheeks
and listened. A pleasant voice was asking for
him, and, in a few seconds, Eleanor Rupert's
bright face was beaming upon him from her
furry hat and winter wrappings.
Harry almost forgot his long period of sus-
pense, and scarcely realized that he was dis-
appointed, when she explained the troublesome
delay and apologised for her share in it. He
was delighted with the paint-box and with her
offer of assistance.
They began at once, and never had an hour
seemed so short to Harry.
Miss Rupert gave him some work to do that
kept him busy and happy during the four days
that elapsed before her second visit. Mrs.
Watson saw hope returning to the bright eyes of
her afflicted little son, and rejoiced with him.


Harry's improvement and progress were so
marked when his kind teacher again visited
him, that she was able to encourage him with
the hope of doing some simple cards for her at
Easter. When she could no longer, come to
him she wrote from time to time, sending
sketches for him to copy, books of instruction,
and so on.
Harry longed for the warm weather, that he
might get out of doors and make more use of
his increased power. Meanwhile he sketched
the early snowdrops, the crocuses and daisies,
and every tree he could see from the windows.
It was from these he got the designs for a
dozen cards which Miss Rupert wanted for a
little party, and when the five shillings she
sent for them were actually in his possession
he shed some tears of grateful joy.
After all, the delay had been better for him
than immediate success. It was some time
before any other money came to him, but he
went steadily on with his drawing, practising
at every leisure moment and improving every
His parents hoped to be able sometime to
afford him the benefit of a teacher's instruction,
and were very glad that there was an occupa-
tion for him in which his lameness was no great

drawback. Harry prepared some very pretty
Easter cards, in the hope that Miss Rupert
might be coming then, and found the dull days
pass very quickly.
For some time every day he read to his
father, who explained things to him in a way
he was not likely to forget, and his general
education went on regularly under the same
kind and efficient teacher.



UTH's birthday was in March. Early
in that month Harry's first earnings
had come into his possession, and he
determined that his birthday present to his
sister should be the fowls she had so much
wished to keep.
George had no time to balance his accounts,
so his father advised him to keep all the money
he received in a box till the end of a quarter
of the year; when, by deducting his expenses,
which he took. from the box as he required, he
would be able to calculate his profits, and see
how best to proceed in the future.
The money which Mr. Watson had advanced
at the beginning was repaid in a few weeks.
This was necessary, as boots were wanted for
the twins, and the household was much
straitened in other ways.


So George could not help his brother, in the
matter of his present, either with money or
time, and Harry fretted over this because he
could not himself make the run for the fowls,
nor even go to buy them without taking some-
one into his confidence.
"What is the matter, Harry?" said his
father one morning, as the boy sat gloomily
thinking and trying to plan a way to get what
he wished.
"Oh, father, there is something I want to do
so much, and I don't know how it can be done,
now George is too busy to help me."
"What is it-perhaps I can do as well as
Could you, father? But Ruth might not
like you to know. Only, unless I tell you, there
seems no chance. We want to give her some
hens for her birthday, and there must be a
'run,' as George calls it, for them, and some
wire and other things."
"Where are you going to keep them ?"
"We thought they could roost in the wood
shed, father, and the wire is to keep them from
running all over the garden. You don't mind,
do you ?"
"Not a bit, if you can manage to do it, my
boy. Now tell me just what you want. Put


down the items and draw a little plan of your
run,' and I will see what can be done."
So saying, Mr. Watson handed Harry a little
pocket-book. Harry spent a few minutes over
his writing, and handed it back, saying, That
is what I want, father,"
Four yards of wire netting 3ft. wide at 3jd. per s. d.
yard ... ... ... ... ... ... 1 2
Two young hens at Is. 6d. each ... ... ... 3 0
Half peck of corn ... .... ... ... ... 0 4
Total ... ... ... 4 6

"You see I have the five shillings which
Miss Rupert sent me. Mrs. Merry will sell us
the pullets at that price she says."
"Is not the corn rather cheap ?" asked his
father, with a smile of amusement.
"It is only the sweepings of the granary,
father, and Mrs. Merry only gives that for hers,
she says."
"How are you going to arrange your run ?"
George thinks we might use those old doors
that used to be in the summer-house for sides,
and if they are put against the wall by the
wood shed, the wire will be enough; we
measured it one day in the winter."
"Well, I will see if your plan will answer,
nd look you up an old box or two for nests.


There should be something of a perch, too;
perhaps we can manage that also."
So the wire, the hens, and the corn were
ordered, and that afternoon, while Ruth was out
with Jean and John, her father wheeled Harry's
chair into the yard. It was a lovely afternoon,
and not too cold for him to sit and superintend
the making of the run.
He watched with great eagerness, as his
father put up a roosting place, and arranged
the nests in one clear part of the wood shed.
A hole had to be made in the door to connect
this with the "run," and some papers had to do
for the time instead of hay or straw for the
When all was finished Harry was tired but
very, very happy. He handed his money to
his father to pay for all the things, and went to
bed with a heart at rest.
Next morning when she went into the garden
little Ruth was surprised to see something new
by the wood shed. She ran up to it and found
a little card tied to the wire. It had a pretty
drawing on it of. a girl feeding chickens, and
these words:-
"With Harry's love to his dear sister.
Wishing her many happy returns of the day."
And there, in the nicely made "run," which


was covered with fresh ashes, were two fine
One was brown, and this she decided to call
"Brownie;" while the other must be Whitie,"
because of the colour of its feathers, though a
few of them were black.
Opening the door of the shed, Ruth peeped
into the nests and, oh! delightful sight, there
was actually an egg!
She ran into the house and gave Harry such
a hug that he pretended to be quite upset. The
egg was boiled for father's breakfast, and the
two hens did a great deal for the whole family,
especially for the little twins, whose delight
it was to feed them. Sometimes they were
allowed in the garden, with Johnnie as guard,
to see that they did not scratch up the seeds
nor peck the young cabbages.
Ruth found after a time that her fowls each
cost a penny a week for food, in addition to
scraps, from the table, and that green food that
Johnnie got for them. They had a good many
snails too, and were well cared for in the
matter of water and clean ashes for their run.
A kind farmer willingly gave the children a
little straw for the nests.
The fowls laid, on an average, five eggs a
week, so before the summer was over they had


repaid the first cost and made a small profit
In course of time the children were able to
get quite a stock of fowls, and found it a very
profitable investment, especially when the hens
brought out their chickens early in the season.
The fowls always did best when they could
be allowed (as sometimes in the winner) to roam
about and pick up grubs and such things for
Of course, when they had more fowls the
boys had to make a larger run for them, but
that was long after the time when Harry gave
the first two to his sister.


T one time the house in which the Wat-
sons lived had been let in two separate
tenements. A small room, with an
entrance from the garden, had, for some reason,
been separated from the inhabited part of the
building. It had a fireplace in it and some
shelves, and the floor, though old and broken,
was boarded. The children called it their
" Little House; they used it for tools, flower-
pots, garden toys, and miscellaneous articles. In
more prosperous times they had often, on wet
or cold days, had a fire in the rusty old grate,
and made "toffee" and such dainties there.
Sometimes little Ruth had cooked her attempts
at pastry in this room and regaled her brothers
with the results-most delicious they were !
Now Mrs. Watson had been put to great
inconvenience by George's stock-in-trade, and


one day her husband, looking round the garden,
suddenly paused before the "Little House,"
and thought-
"What a capital little shop I might make of
this for Georgie's papers !" He set to work at
once, cleared out the tools, got the children to
find other places for the sundry "messes they
kept there, and nailed some pieces of board over
the holes in the floor.
Then he got,a shilling tin of pale green paint
(to be paid for by George out of his profits).
With this he painted the door, the window
frame, and the edges of the shelves. Next, he
put some odd pieces of wall paper that had long
lain useless on the walls. The casement-win-
dow was cleaned, and a board on trestles,
which had been used for ironing linen upon,
made an excellent counter for folding the
The old grate, too, had a coating of Brunswick
black, the floor was cleaned, and the whole place
was transformed. As George came home one
night, he was surprised to see a light in the
"Little House."
He hurried round the corner and opened the
door. There was a bright little fire in the
grate, and its light shone on the little room,
making it look quite grand.


"What a jolly little place exclaimed he,
as he stepped inside.
On a card on the mantelpiece Harry had
printed in large letters :-
The shop proved to be a great acquisition.
Not only were papers kept, folded and arranged,
there, but when the monthly magazines arrived
it was found much easier to keep them in order
than before. While George was absent, Harry
spent many hours there with his drawings,
besides doing a great deal to help his brother
in folding and sorting.
By-and-by people got into the habit of
calling for their papers and books, and the boys
were often asked, Do you keep writing paper ?"
or, Have you any lead pencils for sale ?"
It was so easy for customers to call, because
the window was toward the road, and the door
on the other side was reached by a sloping path
from the gate. So, for the convenience of their
neighbours, George and Harry laid in a stock
of stationery and a few books. This involved
constant attendance, for there was no direct
communication with the house, and the shop
could not be left till evening.
Harry sorely missed his brother's com-


panionship, for the lad was so busy at night,
and so tired in the morning, that he had little
time to spare for any one at home.
"The breezy call of incense-breathing morn"
often found him still in bed. He did not fall
behind his schoolfellows, but neither could he
gain that eminence among them that he had
hoped for and intended to reach. In their
games they had ceased to look for him.
George felt this very much, for he had been
one of the first eleven, and his help had been
considered a desirable thing in all the foot-
ball matches. But he went steadily -on.
"I am helping them at home," he used to
say to himself. "When next term is over it
will be easier;" and when, tired and weary,
he sometimes felt inclined to give in, he
reminded himself of that happy Sunday when
he had resolved to take whatever way" God
guided him into. In his boyish manner he
daily sought and found the strength sufficient"
promised to those who wait on the Lord."
Harry always kept the shop open till its
owner came home, and generally had some
incident to tell of a new customer or a liberal
One day in April, just before the term
ended, Jean was helping Harry, as she was


fond of doing, in her childish way. Harry
wanted some papers, and it being dusk in the
tiny room, Jean took a candle to see which
they were. All of a sudden the flame caught
an almanack which was hanging on the wall,
and the papers on a shelf above it were imme-
diately set on fire.
Jean shrieked out, but had not the presence
of mind sufficient to open the door and run out,
as Harry called to her to do.
He, poor lad, could not move, but he knocked
wildly at the wall and added his shouts to
Jean's. It seemed as if both must be burnt to
death before help could reach them, but God
heard the cry of His helpless little children.
George was coming along, wearily enough,
till he was nearly at the gate. Then something
caught his ear. He saw a bright light in the
shop window. What could it be? "Fire! fire!"
shouted he the next moment, as he flung the
gate open and rushed to the door.
Father and mother heard him, and were
there almost as soon as he.
They seized poor trembling little Jean and
put her outside. Then all three ran t6 Harry's
assistance, and he, too, was soon in safety. A
water-butt stood not far off. Ruth ran for pails
and bowls and jugs. Soon the flames died out.


Blackened, ruined, scorched papers were left
where all had been so pretty and peaceful but
a few minutes before.
"Thank God !" reverently exclaimed the
father. The mother and children tremblingly
sobbed their gratitude as they all went into the
Poor Harry was so shaken and unnerved
that he could not tell them how it happened for
some time; and Jean wept hysterically and
cried, Oh, the fire! the fire! "
By one impulse the whole family gathered
for their evening worship.
Few, indeed, were Mr. Watson's words of
gratitude, but every heart was full of thanks-
When, at length, Jean's excitement had
subsided, and she .and John had gone to bed,
Ruth said :
Shall we go and see how much was burnt ?"
Yes; we had better make sure that nothing
is left burning," replied her father. We shall
all sleep better for knowing the full extent of
our loss."
"Why, how wonderful! exclaimed George,
as they stood in the disordered little shop;
"how wonderful it is that more was not
burnt! See, father, this heap of magazines is


not even touched. The water has spoiled most
of our note-paper and some of the books."
"Yes; and father's nice paint," said Ruth.
"But we must have come soon after the fire
began, or more would have been destroyed."
"God has indeed been good to us, my
children. We shall never forget this night, and
the wonderful preservation of our dear ones.
What is the loss of a few papers and books ?
Though it will be a trial for you, George, yet
think what it might have been! To-morrow
I will endeavour to put things right again;
and we must see that, in future, there is some
way of communication between the house and
this room. There must have been a doorway
at one time.
When they returned to the parlour, Harry
was more calm, though still very pale and
trembling a good deal. His mother was reading
to him, in her gentle soothing voice : "God is
our refuge and strength, a very present help in
The holy words brought peace and quietness
to the suffering child, and he was able to rest
and to sleep far better than, at one time,
seemed at all. likely.
When rumours of the accident got abroad
next day, many people came out of curiosity to


make small purchases and inquiries. The
stock was thus reduced almost to nothing.
A little fresh paint and paper had covered up
most of the effects of the fire when the landlord
called. He promised to re-open the door of com-
munication between shop and house; and seeing
how unsuitable the casement window was, he
"While the workmen are about they may as
well put you in a better window. I like to
see boys helping their parents, and am glad to
do what I can for them."
So, after. all, the fire was a real benefit;
though poor Harry did not recover from the
shock for many days, and Jean occasionally
awoke her mother in the night by screaming
out about the fire.
A little poem which his mother read to him
helped Harry at this time. Here is a verse
of it :-
"Whate'er my God ordains is right,
My Life-my Light is He;
Who cannot will me aught but good,
I trust Him utterly.
For well I know,
In joy or woe,
We soon shall see, as sunlight clear,
How faithful was our Guardian here."


HE Easter holidays began with lovely
spring weather. Primroses studded
the banks; violets clustered beneath
the hedgerows; the birds sang in the early
dewy mornings .and the calm quiet evenings;
the sun in the blue sky shone through the boughs
of the trees and showed up the brown leaf buds
on every twig and branch. Everything was full
of that "newness of life" which comes to
Nature with the spring time.
And now, George, we can have some of our
old turns together," said Harry, as the brothers
looked out of their bedroom window on the first
holiday morning. I wish you had not to take
that long walk every day, but we need not go
far a-field, because I am longing to make some
new sketches."
"All right, old fellow; we have three weeks


to do them in, you know, and I shall be glad
enough to rest a little. Only I must do a
little grinding, for the exam. is coming on, and
I am all behind with my preparation work."
"When are you going to open your cash
"As soon as the rest of the monthlies are
out. A few of them are not paid for yet,
Father thinks I must not let them go
without payment next time. He says it is
bad business, and not desirable for either buyer
or seller."
"Where shall we go to-day ?"
"Do you think we could get to the Daisy
Bank? Then Ruth and the little ones can
come with us."
Harry sighed. He would have liked to be
alone with George; but, then, Ruth ought to
have some pleasure, and mother must not be
left with the twins on her hands. So he
consented, and the merry party spent the
greater part of George's first day at home in
one of their favourite haunts.
Daisy Bank was the children's name for a
wide undulating meadow, on a sloping bank of
which they had once found the earliest daisies of
the year. A little stream rippled at the foot
of this hill, and the slope on the other side


of the stream was crowned by a little wood, in
which they hunted for fir cones and such-like
Harry made one or two pretty sketches of
this wood, of the stile that led to it, of the
little stream and the bank with a group of fir
trees, and of the little children making daisy
His drawings were improving, and he had
sold all his Easter cards through Miss Rupert.
The price was low, and the profit very small,
but he felt proud enough of the few shillings
he was able to give his mother as an Easter
"Father says his eye seems a great deal
better since he went to London last week," re-
marked George, as he sat at Harry's feet while
he sketched. "Won't it be jolly when he can
go to Mr. Hamilton's again, and we can have
everything straight as we used to do ?"
"It does not seem as if we ever shall,"
replied Harry. "Last year seems so far away.
I have got so accustomed to doing some things
and doing without others that I can scarcely
remember when it was different."
I hope there will be enough money in my
cash-box to pay Dr. Wise for this term at
least," said George. And if only I could have


a new jacket--" He looked ruefully at
the carefully mended but shrunken suit,
which he had quite outgrown, and shook his
"Of course, father could get anything he
wanted without paying for it, for a time; but
he does not like doing that, because he says
'out of debt is out of danger,' and till his eyes
are well he is not sure of being able to earn
the money."
It must be hardest of all for him," replied
George, thoughtfully; "and yet he is so good
and brave, and patient-I think father is a
"Come along, Ruthie, it is time we were
going home. What has Johnnie got there ?"
Johnnie was especially fond of animals. He
had now a collection of creatures in his little
handkerchief, which he spread open on the
bank for George's inspection. There were a
beetle or two, a little frog-which took advan-
tage of his opportunity, and hopped off in spite
of Johnnie's efforts to recapture him-one or
two worms, and a poor little bird, which had
probably been killed by some stray shot from
the gun of a sportsman.
Johnnie was hardly persuaded to leave these
treasures behind, but Harry induced him to do


so by first drawing their portraits; and the
happy children set off homewards.
George and his brothers and sisters had given
names to all their usual lanes and woods.
Generally these were given because of some
flower or other treasure they had found in the
locality. Thus they had Oak-gate Meadow,"
"Daffodil Wood," "Primrose Lane," and
"Orchis Dell."
A -deep hollow, formed by a deserted quarry,
and overgrown with various plants, was a very
interesting place to them. Here they found
the bee orchis, and several other plants found
nowhere else in the neighbourhood; while in a
wood at a little distance there was a succession
of delights-wild anemones, ox-lips, blue
hyacinths, and so on.
There was a favourite little stream, too-a
happy hunting-ground for the boys-where
tadpoles, minnows, caddis flies, water beetles,
water snails, and such things could be got
It was in such quiet scenes as these that
the holidays passed. George was too fond of
them, and too glad to be relieved from the
pressure of some of his work, to feel dull or
One memorable evening the precious cash-


box was opened, and all the family crowded
round to see its contents.
Jean opened her blue eyes very wide at the
sight of so many "pennies," and John was eager
to help to pile them up into shillings and pounds.
George almost held his breath as the piles
grew more and more numerous. One pound,
two pounds, and so on, were set aside, and still
the counting went on. His father quietly
made out the statement for him, putting down
expenses and debts on one side, and receipts
on the other, from George's rough memoranda.
Presently he handed it over to George, say-
ing :-
There, my son, is your account for the three
months of your business career. It is far
beyond my expectations, and I congratulate
you on your success. But, better than any
profit in money matters is the proof you have
given of a manly courage and self-reliance,
and patient perseverance in the path of duty.
I am thankful to God for giving me a son
who can cheerfully undertake unpleasant
duties, and nobly carry out his purposes. God's
blessing ever rests on a dutiful child. To Him
we give all the praise."
A lump came into George's throat, and he
brushed his sleeve across his eyes once or twice


before he could see clearly the words on the
paper which his father had given him.
"Seven pounds he exclaimed. Have I
really as much as that, father ? "
"Yes, and a little over, if we take the stock
into account. The fire did but little to reduce
your receipts, because so many customers came
in consequence of it, and your shop has been
greatly improved."
Why, we can pay Dr. Wise, and have two
pounds over!"
"Yes, that will buy your new suit and
boots," said the mother, who was as pleasantly
excited and surprised as her children.
Oh, mother, dear! can't you have some-
thing ? I wish it had not all to be spent on
"You forget, George, you are giving us the
five pounds for your school fees. We had set
it aside, and can now use it for other things ;.
and by next term we may hope that dear father
will be quite well again."
The children now began to discuss the
various items in the account, saying how this
profit had come from papers, that from maga-
zines, and so on.
Mr. Watson pointed out that the actual
expenditure had'been small because George


had no rent to pay, and he had done so much
of the work himself.
George reminded him how much he and
Harry and Ruth had done to assist, and said
even the little ones deserved credit for their
willing help in looking after the shop.
Harry and he must be considered as partners,
he said; and Harry must make use of the shop
for the sale of his own sketches.
They then talked over the various things
which from time to time had been added to
their stock, and decided to keep Bibles, prayer-
books, and hymn-books in future, because
these were often asked for. Mr. Watson wrote
for the list of the British and Foreign Bible
Society, and in course of time there were many
copies of the Word of God circulated by means
of the W\atsons' agency.




T was a great pleasure to Harry that Miss
Rupert was spending her Easter holiday
at Midgely; and she contrived to give
him one or two lessons during her visit to Mrs.
Her home was in London, and during the
winter she had been helping a band of earnest
Christian people in caring for the poor and
suffering, not only in the East End, but in the
more prosperous western districts. For even
there, hidden behind the palaces of the wealthy,
there are many "slums" where the poor live
and suffer.
Some of Miss Rupert's friends had been the
means of giving shelter and breakfast to the
homeless wanderers who nightly pace the stony
streets, and have no place in which to lie down.
Others had visited the starving workmen and


workwomen who, by dint of many hours of
labour, could only earn enough to keep them-
selves alive.
Others, again, had visited the hospitals;
nursing the sick, reading or singing to them,
and looking after them when, thoroughly well
enough to leave the hospital, but not strong
enough to work, they came out to fight again
the battle of life.
As I drove through your pretty lanes," said
Miss Rupert one day to the Watsons, "I saw
such a number of lovely primroses that I longed
to send some to my poor people in London.
Could you tell me of any children who would
pick a hamper full for me once or twice a week
while they last? I would gladly pay for
them. You can scarcely imagine," she con-
tinued, turning to Mrs. Watson, "what an
effect wild flowers often have on the poor
men and women who attend our Mission.
Such simple flowers as primroses and daffodils
have a special charm. I have often seen a
poor, weary, miserable woman with tears
streaming down her cheeks at the sight
and smell of a hamper of such common
No doubt," said Mrs. Watson, "the poor
creatures are reminded of their happy innocent


childhood in the country, and the scent of the
flowers makes them homesick."
"It must be so, I am sure, for I overhear
them sometimes telling a friend or a child how
they remember the lovely woods and dells
where, as little children, they picked the spring
flowers at will. One of the men, a big man
who through an accident had lost his employ-
ment and taken to evil habits, was quite broken
down one day when we had some wallflowers
sent for the guests at a free dinner. He said
with tears, They used to grow about our door
at home, and my poor old mother was so fond
of the smell !"
"Have you many flowers sent to you ?"
"Yes, but we could do with many more,
The children like especially a root of some
hardy plant. Primrose roots are very good for
their purpose, as the flowers will last some time,
and buds will open if they have water, even if
the mould is insufficient."
Johnnie looked surprised.
"Can't they get earth to put the roots in?"
said he.
"No," replied Miss Rupert; "in some of the
courts and alleys even earth is not to be had.
The children use a broken jar or old cup, or jug,
or even old tins for flower pots ; and ashes, soot,


street sweepings, and so on for earth. You,
Jeannie, would like to help us make up the
little bunches of flowers for the hospital. We
tie a pretty card to each little bunch, and on
the card there is a sweet text written. These
little messages from God's Word are often of
great use. They give the visitor who takes the
flowers a subject of conversation, and when she
has gone, the poor sick one will be reminded of
her words by the card. I could tell you of
many cases in which these texts have been the
means of leading souls to the Saviour. But
you have not said if you can give me any help
with the primroses."
The children looked eagerly at their mother.
Will you allow us to gather them for you,
Miss Rupert ?" said she. "We should all be
delighted to have such a pleasant share in
so good a work."
"If it would not be asking too much," said
their visitor, "I should like it extremely."
She then gave them directions as to the
arrangement. The flowers were to be tied up in
convenient bouquets with some of their leaves,
and arranged in loose layers on trays in the
hampers which Miss Rupert would send for the
purpose. Daffodils, being the best flowers to
stand the railway journey, would be best.


Ferns were of little use, they so soon drooped;
but bracken was always acceptable.
The little ones entered eagerly into the work,
and all the children were glad not only to help
the poor people of whom Miss Rupert had told
them, but to do something for her in return for
her kindness to Harry.
In the hollow which has been spoken of,
where limestone had been quarried, there was a
disused kiln. It had a fascination for the boys
because of its dark recesses and hollow-sound-
ing echoes. The hollow was not far from home,
and the children went to it one afternoon for
some coltsfoot and brakes which grew plenti-
fully there. They were scattered about, pick-
ing here and there, and neither George nor
Ruth noticed that little John had gone off by
When, however, having picked sufficient for
their purpose, they turned to go home, George
halloed to Jean to come along and bring
Johnnie with her.
"I don't see Johnnie," said the little girl.
"Call again, George," said Ruth, "he can't
be far off."
George coo-ied and his sisters called, but no
John was heard to reply. Some cows who
were quietly grazing in the dell looked up,


astonished at the unusual noise, but there was
no sign of the boy.
Perhaps he has gone home with his flowers,"
suggested Ruth.
"Run home and see," said George, "while I
search for him."
Ruth and Jean went off homewards, and
George explored the dell in all directions.
Some lime was burning in one place, and a
horrible fear came over the boy. Had Johnnie,
who was fond of poking into things, got into
danger there? He carefully searched all round
the burning lime-there were no traces of little
feet, no sign of the child. Ruth came running
He is not at home," said she. "I tried not
to let mother know he was missing, because he
must be here somewhere."
I've looked all over the place," said George.
"He is nowhere to be seen."
"Little rogue, he must be hiding away, on
purpose. Johnnie! called his sister. "It is
tea-time; we are going home."
The brother and sister listened. A faint
sound came from the old kiln ; both ran
towards it. And there at the entrance, was a
pale little face, all begrimed with dirt and


"Come, Johnnie. What are you staying
there for ?"
"The cow," sobbed Johnnie. "She won't go
away." The children could not help laughing.
There was a peaceable cow, quietly ruminating
just in front of John. He was always a little
afraid of cows, and this one, as he explained
afterwards, had looked at him so earnestly that
he dared not venture out of the kiln, where he
had taken refuge.
Ruth took him home, and speedily removed
the dirt from clothes and face, and he helped
in the packing of the hamper for London.
Every week, all through the spring and sum-
mer, the children sent flowers to the Mission.
When winter came, Mrs. Watson filled the
hamper once or twice with clothing, some old
and faded, but still warm, some new, and some
that were new articles made from old material.
To this Harry added texts and mottoes, Ruth
put in some of her dolls, Johnnie had contri-
buted a scrap-book, and Jean some pincushions
for the old women. George paid the carriage
of the hamper, his father sent a small sum of
money, and thus all had a share in the joy of
Mrs. Watson said she was glad they could
do this.


"It is a temptation to those who are, like
ourselves, in want of means, to think more of
receiving than of giving," said she. "Yet the
blessing was said by our dear Saviour to belong
to those who give: 'It is more blessed to
give than to receive.'"
"I think we all feel that," remarked the
father; "and it is delightful that even the
young and the poor can find something to do
for others."





EORGE WATSON took up his work
again after Easter with fresh zeal and
courage, feeling very independent and
important as he realized that he was actually
earning, if not his own living, at least his own
school fees.
One day, Dr. Wise, passing through the
schoolroom in play-time, found George there,
seated at his desk.
"What are you doing there, Watson?" asked
he. At first he did not understand why one so
fond of play, so good at games, and so popular
with his schoolfellows as George had always
been, should prefer to study in the recess.
By a series of questions, little by little, he
found the state of the case, and was a little
puzzled at such an innovation. It explained
why George, who had been one of the most


promising of his pupils, had of late seemed to
be losing his prestige, and, indeed, getting a
little behind the rest of the form in which he
was placed.
Bub the doctor was not a man to act rashly,
and he fully appreciated George Watson's
motives and industry.
"Have you a newsboy among your pupils ?"
asked Mr. Leslie, the wealthy father of one of
the scholars, one day. "My boy tells me you
That is scarcely the way to put it," replied
the doctor, But I have a pupil who is a
newsboy," and he explained the matter, adding,
" As it is only for a time, and his father does
not object, I see no reason for interfering; the
boy is working hard, and I hope he will gain
one of the foundation scholarships next term,
and so have a year with us as a boarder."
"Let me know when he leaves you," said
Mr. Leslie. "Such a lad ought to be worth
something. Rich men's sons have no chance
of such originality and invention."
The interest shown by Mr. Leslie was of
great use to George when his school days were
over, and he had to earn his own living in
reality. Meanwhile he went steadily on, and
the bright spring passed into glowing summer,


all too quickly, except that July, with its full
glory and beauty, brought the long holiday. It
brought little change or rest to George, but his
heart was light and his step buoyant.
Father was well! Oh, how gladly and
thankfully did Mr. Watson once more take
up the daily round of work and become the
mainstay of his family. He could not imagine
that the drudgery of desk work could ever
again appear irksome and disagreeable, as had
been the case occasionally before his long ill-
He was very thankful that he had an
employer like Mr. Hamilton, who had managed
to keep a place for him in his office, though not
exactly the one he had filled before.
Mrs. Watson lost gradually the careworn
look which she had worn so long. Her anxiety
had been chiefly on her husband's account.
Now he was well, she became stronger and
more cheerful. Once more able to have help
in her household duties, she remembered how
many things had been sent to her as helps in
the time of trial, and took the eldest daughter
of a large family to train as a servant, instead
of hiring more experienced assistance.
The twins still took their lessons at home,
but, in addition to their mother's tuition, they


shared in the advantages of the lessons given
by a lady who came twice a week to assist
Ruth and Harry in their preparation for the
Junior Cambridge Examination.
Ruth was more useful than ever, and was
able to save her mother trouble in many ways.
The season of trial had drawn out the girl's
thoughtful :',-i :ri.u and sympathy. She took
a deeper interest than before in all who were
afflicted in "mind, body, or estate," and endea-
voured in many ways to help and comfort
Harry found that he must study a great deal,
and practise still more, if he would succeed in
selling his productions in the open market. He
was now preparing for the South Kensington
drawing examinations, and letting his paint-
box have a rest, because Miss Rupert had
said: "It is of no use trying to build a good
house with bad bricks," which Harry had
interpreted to mean, "It is of no use try-
ing to make a good painting out of a bad
Harry never became a famous artist, but he
earned a large sum at one time by the produc-
tion of hand-painted cards for special seasons
and occasions. He suffered a good deal of pain,
but his life was so full of business and interest


that he became brighter in spirit, and stronger
in body, every day.
As for George, he found that-
"Who feels the thirst for knowledge,
In Helicon may slake it,
If he has still the Roman will
To find a way or make it."
He had the trial of having to sit still and
see prizes given to others younger than himself
on "prize day" at the grammar school that
summer. But, later on, he was successful in
an open competition for a scholarship. He
could hold this only as a boarder, but his father
decided that he could, with this assistance,
allow him to take that position for at least a
How, then, could his papers be distri-
buted ?"
Mr. Watson sought out a boy who could
attend the elementary school as "half-timer."
This boy, for half-a-crown a week, was glad to
take the daily papers and some of the weeklies.
For a time Ruth left the remainder, when out
for her walks with the little ones. As time
went on and business increased a second boy
was employed. This greatly diminished the
profits, but Mr. Watson did not mind that.
"We have no right to keep more than we


need, when others are wanting employment,"
said he. Let us look on the things of others,
as the Bible says."
Seeing, however, how useful the occupation
was to his invalid son, he kept the business in
his own hands. In course of time Royton
greatly increased in population, and the little
shop grew, until it became an important and
profitable affair.
The Watsons often looked back on the
year that father was ill," and were never tired
of talking of the days when they had known
cold and hunger and weariness, when pennies
were scarce, and clothes so small and old and
worn, yet when God had shown them all
ways of helping their parents and each other.
This time had been to them like the frosts
of winter, that brace and strengthen the healthy
body, and enable it to withstand the summer
heat and autumn mists.
Above all, especially with George, the season
was marked as the time when, feeling his
sinfulness and weakness, he had found in
Christ forgiveness and strength. He kept up
his connection with the Sunday school for
many years, and eventually presented a new
library as a testimony of his grateful affection
for his old teacher.


One birthday Harry's present to his brother
was an illuminated card. A strong fortress
was drawn, with two soldiers gazing earnestly
at it. Above the pi.: tno., in coloured letters,
was printed-

"Find a Way or Make It,"

and below in larger letters-

"Show me Thy Ways, 0 Lord."



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