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duty to forgive Frank before the latter
asked it? Frank was the aggressor, and
ought, at least, to have made the first ad
vance towards a reconciliation. That
argument, my little friend, is a suggestion
of the devil. Frank’s doing wrong, and
persisting in it, was no excuse for George
to sin.
The next morning was Sunday. George
had spent a restless night. He had nev
er gone to bed in his life, since he was old
enough to repeat a prayer at his mother’s
knee, without asking God’s blessing; but
how could'he pray to be forgiven when
he indulged enmity in his own heart? It
was an up-hill business, and he felt that
God had not heard his prayer. But, this
bright Sunday morning, he determined,
with God’s help, that he would forgive,
as he hoped to be forgiven, and -when he
arose from his knees it was with a reso
lution to find Frank, and at least do his
duty.
But how was it with Frank? Had he
determined without an effort to abandon
the only true friend he had in S ? I
am inclined to think that it had been
worse with him than with the other. In
spite of his selfishness and ill-temper,
there was a vein of true, genuine feeling
in his nature which rebelled against his
conduct to Frank, and nothing but a false
and wicked pride kept him from seeking
forgiveness before he slept. When, there
fore, George sought him out, at his room,
on Sunday morning, he not only “met
him half way,” but made such a full and
complete acknowledgment, that their old
friendship was not only renewed, but
greatly strengthened. And, lam glad to
say that Frank had the manliness to
make a public acknowledgment of his
fault, and, through George’s influence, he
so far improved in his conduct generally,
as to gain the friendship of almost the
entire school.
Macon , Georgia.
Coal.
Coal is found deep in the earth. It is
there that we may dig it out, and make
fires of it. W e can get light as well as
heat from it; for the gas which we burn
to give us light in the house or in the
street is got from the coal that men dig
out of the ground. Os how much use to
us is coal! Is not God good to give us
coal? We ought to thank Him with all
our hearts for all the good things lie
gives us.
♦♦♦
Ignorance is the curse of God;
knowledge the wings wherewith we fly
to Heaven.
Coal.
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
Little Willie.
®EAR mamma,” low whispered Willie,
Rising from his trundle-bed,
Softly creeping after mother,
With a timid, noiseless tread,
“ Do not leave your little Willie,
’Tis so very dark,” he said.
t “ Dark ! and what of that, my darling ?
God is near you just the same.
When you feel afraid, dear Willie,
Call upon the Savior’s name;
He will light your little chamber,
With a soothing, heavenly flame.
It will drive away the shadows
In my little Willie’s heart;
It will bid all gloomy feelings
From his timid soul depart;
Then the brightness of His Spirit
To the room will light impart.
“ Jesus will protect you, darling—
So you need not be afraid;
He is ever near my Willie,
Both in sunlight and in shade;
Trust him, dearest— sweetly slumber
Till the stars at daybreak fade.”
Then upon his downy pillow
Willie laid his curly head,
All his fears of darkness vanished,
“ I will trust the Lord,” he said,
“ Surely I can fear no danger
While He watches o’er my bed.”
[Child’B Paper.
MM-
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
MAROONER’S ISLAND ;
OR,
Dr. Gordon in Search of His Children.
BY REV. F . R. GOULDING,
Author of “ The Young Marooners.”
CHAPTER XXYII— Continued.
MRS. McINTOSH—ABREAST OF BELLEVUE—THE
PILOT BOAT-OLD TORGAII-PREPARE FOR AN
OTHER TOUR.
HE day before I)r. Gor
don embarked he was
pained to receive a let-
A YfjlM ’ , o i • . -»r •
ysfflSL, ter from his cousin, Maj.
M-4l Burke, informing him
If\ that up to the date of writing no
Mi tidings had been obtained from the
missing company of juveniles. lie
said nothing of this to Mrs. Gordon,
hoping to hear better things on his arri
val at Tampa, and relying greatly upon
her improvement of health during the
voyage to enable her to sustain the dis
appointment if the young people should
not by that time have arrived; but the
intelligence had an irresistibly depressing
effect upon his own feelings. “ What
could have become of them after leaving
the island?” was a question constantly
recurring, and never satisfactorily an
swered. It was, therefore, with unfeign
ed delight that he hailed the hour of his
departure, and that he watched the steady
progress of the vessel as she ploughed her
prosperous way from the beautiful harbor
he left to the still more beautiful one he
sought.
On coming abreast of Bellevue, where
the vessel lay to, before passing on to the
town and the fort, Dr. Gordon asked to
be taken ashore. For prudential reasons
he preferred to go alone. Besides appri
sing the servants of Mrs. Gordon’s arrival
he wished to learn whether the young
people had returned, and fearing the effect
upon his wife of the dreaded disappoint
ment, he preferred to be able, in case of
need, to convey her directly to the fort
where she would have the cheering pre
sence of her cousin, and the medical aid
of the surgeon who had so skilfully treat
ed his own case.
Ere the yawl had pulled over half the
distance, Judy, Peter and William were
at the landing, ready to welcome him, and
he knew by the absence of other figures
from the group that he must prepare him
self for evil tidings. On asking Judy if
anything had been heard from the young
people, her reply was :
“Not one wud, my dear mossa! Not
one wud, septw’at you bring yo’self, long
time ago.”
With heavy heart he returned to the
vessel, picturing to himself the scene of
anguish he was destined to behold, and
taxing his medical knowledge for the
means necessary to relief. To his sur
prise, no less than to his joy, he discover
ed that Mrs. Gordon bore the disappoint
ment with great equanimity; a few
natural tears attested her sorrow, but she
soon began to act the unexpected part of
comforter to himself. Dr. Gordon was
first astonished, then alarmed; he feared
that his wife was exhibiting the horrid
composure of insanity. Some days after
wards, however, observing no other indi
cations of an unsettled mind, and inqui
ring whether there had been anything to
prepare her for this disappointment, she
replied, with a sweet, submissive smile:
“Yes; all through the voyage 1 made
it a religious duty, day after day, to try
and say with sincerity ‘Not- my will but
thine, O Lord, be done!’ I think, too,
that you yourself helped me in a way that
you did not intend or suspect. Your oc
casional seasons of sadness, and your care
fully worded language while endeavoring
to speak hopefully, all tended to persuade
me that something weighed heavily upon
your own heart. I, therefore, made up
my mind, as otherwise I probably should
not have done, to prepare, if possible, foi
the worst. And now, my dear husband,
I am ready to join you in thanking bod
that, although called to grieve over the
absence of our children, we have no right
yet to grieve over their lass. 1 '
This language instantly relieved 8 1 -
Gordon of all fears as to his wife’s sane
ness of mind, and awakened in him a