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her pets. She grew up a universal
favorite. The kindness of heart that
prompted her to gain the affections of
reptiles, led her to gain the affection of
all with whom she was associated. She
is now the step-mother of little Johnie,
the hero of ‘‘The New Saddle” —a
story published in the second volume
of Burke’s Weekly. May the Lord’s
blessings rest upon her through life !
Mrs. S. E. Peck.
Resolution,
SF you’ve any task to do,
Let mo whisper, friend, to you,
Bo it.
True and needed, yea or nay,
GX Say it.
If you’ve anything to love.
Asa blessing from above.
Love it.
If you’ve anything to give,
That another’s joy may live,
Give it,
If some hollow creed you doubt,
Though the world may hoot and shout,
Doubt it.
If you know what torch to light,
Guiding others through the night,
Light it,
If you’ve any debt to pay,
Iloat you noifciior night nor day,
Pay it.!
If you’ve anvjoy to ho'd \
Hold it.
If you’ve any grief to meet.
At the Loving Father’s feet.
Meet it.
If you’re given light to see,
What a child of God should be,
See it.
Whether life be bright or dear,
There is a message sweet and clear,
Whisper down to every ear
Hear it.
*.»•>«
THE ONE-EYED SERVANT,
A STORY TOLD TO A CHILD.
0 you see those two pretty
' cottages on opposite sides of
the common? How bright
their windows are, and how pretty the
vines trail over them ! A year ago one
of them was the dirtiest and most foi
lorn-looking place you can imagine,
and its mistress the most untidy wo-
man.
She was once sitting at her cottage
door, with her arms folded, as if she
were deep in thought, though to look
at her face one would not have sup
posed she was doing more than idly
watching the swallows as they floated
about in the hot, clear air. Her gown
was torn and shabby, her shoes down
at the heels 5 the little curtain in her
casement, which had once been fresh
and white, had a great rent in it; and
BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
altogether she looked poor and forlorn.
She sat some time, gazing across the
common, when all of a sudden she
heard a little noise, like stitching, near
the ground. She looked down, and,
sitting on the border, under a wall
flower bush, she saw the funniest little
man possible, with a blue coat, a yellow
waistcoat, and red boots; he had a
small shoe on his lap, and he was
stitching away at it with all his might.
“ Good morning, mistress,” said the
little man. “Avery fine day. Why
may you be looking so earnestly across
the common ? ”
“I was looking at my neighbor’s cot
tage,” said the young woman.
“What! Tom the gardener’s wife?
Little Polly she used to be called. And
a very pretty cottage it is, too 1 Looks
thriving, doesn’t it?”
“She was always lucky,” said Bella
(for that was the young wife’s name) ;
“and her husband is always good to
her.”
“They were both good husbands at
first,” interrupted the little cobbler,
without stopping. “ Reach me my awl,
mistress, will you, for you seem to have
nothing to and lies close by your
foot. ’ ’
“Well, I can’t say but they were
both very good husbands at first,” re
plied Bella, reaching the awl with a
sigh; “but mine has changed for the
worse, and hers for the better; and
then, look how she thrives. Only to
u.JLi-ieu on the
same day ; and now I have nothing,
and she has two pigs and a—”
41 a lot of flax that she spun in
the winter,” interrupted the cobbler;
“and a Sunday gown, as good green stuff
as ever was seen, and, to my know
ledge, a handsome silk handkeichief
for an apron ; and a red waistcoat for
her goodman, with three row3 of blue
glass buttons; and a flitch of bacon in
the chimney, and a rope of onions.”
“Oh, she’s a lucky woman!” ex
claimed Bella.
“Aye, and a tea-tray, with Daniel in
the lions’ den upon it,” continued the
cobbler; “and a fat baby in the
cradle.”
“ Oh, I’m sure I don’t envy her the
least,” said Bella, pettishly. “I’ve
little enough for myself and my hus
band, letting alone children.”
“Why, mistress, isn’t your husband
in work?” asked the cobbler.
“ No, he’s at the ale-house.”
“Well, how is that? he used to be
very sober ; can’t be get work ?
“ His last master wouldn’t keep him
because he was so shabby.
“Humph!” said the little man.
“He’s a isn t he? ell, as 1
was saying, your neighbor opposite
thrives wonderfully; but no wonder!
Well, I’ve nothing to do with other
people’s secrets; but I could tell you,
only I’m busy and must go.”
“Could tell me ivhatl ” cried the
young wife. “ Oh! good cobbler, don t
go, for I’ve nothing to do. Pray tell
me why it’s no wonder that she should
thrive ? ”
“Well,” said he, “it’s no business
of mine, you know; but, as I said be
fore, it’s no wonder people thrive who
have a servant —a hard-working one,
too—who is always helping them.”
“A servant!” repeated Bella, “my
neighbor has a servant! No wonder,
then, everything looks so neat about
her; but I never saw the servant. I
think you must be mistaken ; besides,
how could she afford to pay her
wages ? ”
“She has a servant, I say,” repeat
ed the cobbler, “ a one-eyed servant;
but she pays her no wages, to my cer
tain knowledge. Well, good morning,
mistress, I must go.”
“ Do stop one minute,” cried Bella,
urgently ; “ where did she get this ser
vant?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said the cob
bler; “servants are plentiful enough;
and Polly uses hers well, I can tell
you.”
“ And what does she do for her? ”
“Do for her? Why, all sorts of
things. I think she’s the cause of her
prosperity. To my knowledge, she
never refuses to do anything—keeps
Tom’s and Polly’s clothes in beautiful
order, and the baby’s.”
“ Dear me! ” said Bella, in an envi
ous tone, and holding up both her
hands; “well, she -*.<? a lucky woman..
ana 1 always said so. She takes good
care I shall never see her servant.
What sort of a servant is she? and
how came she to have only one eye ?
“It runs in her family,” replied the
cobbler, stitching busily ; “ they are
all so —one eye apiece ; yet they make
a very good use of it; and Polly s ser
vant has four cousins who are blind
stone blind —no eyes at all, and they
sometimes come and help her. I’ve
seen them in the cottage myself; and
that’s how Polly get’s a good deal of
her money. They work for her; and
she takes what they make to market,
and buys all those handsome things.”
44 Only think,” said Bella, almost
ready to cry with vexation, “and I've
not got a soul to do anything for me ;
how hard it is! ” and she took up her
apron to wipe away her tears.
The cobbler looked attentively at
her.
“Well, ye are to be pitied, certain
ly,” he said; “and if I were not in
such a hurry —”
“ Oh, do go on, pray—were you go
ing to say you could help me? I have
heard your people are fond of curds
and whey, and fresh gooseberry sylla
bub. Now, if you would help me,
trust me that there should be the most
beautiful curds and whey set every
night for you on the hearth, and no
bo°dy should ever look while you went
and came.”
“Why, you see,” said the cobbler,
, hesitating, “my people are extremely
particular about —in short, about clean
liness, mistress: and your house is not
what one would call very clean. No
offence, I hope.”
Bella blushed deeply. “Well, but
it should be always clean if you would
—every day of my life I would wash
the floor, and sand it, and the hearth
should be white as snow, and the win
dows cleaned.”
“Well,” said the cobbler, seeming
to consider; “well then, I should not
wonder if I could meet with a one-eyed
servant for you, like your neighbor’s;
but it may be several days before I
can: and mind, mistress, I’m to have
a dish of curds.”
“Yes, and some whipped cream,
too,” replied Bella, full of joy.
The cobbler then took up his tools,
wrapped them in his leather apron,
walked behind the wallflower, and dis
appeared.
Bella was so delighted she could not
sleep that night for joy. Her husband
scarcely knew the house, she had made
it so bright and clean ; and by night
she had washed the curtain, cleansed
the window, rubbed the fire-irons, sand
ed the floor, and set a great jug of haw
thorn in blossom on the hearth.
The next morning, Bella kept a sharp
look-out for the tiny cobbler, and on
her neighbor’s house to see whether she
could possibly catch a glimpse of the
oae-eyed servant. But no nothing
ei gh bo^sittu^
in her rocking-chair, with'"
her knee, working.
At last, when she was quite
heard the voice of the cobbler, outside.
She ran to the door, and cried out:
“ Oh, do pray come in, sir, only look
at my house.”
“Really,” said the cobbler, looking
around, “ I declare I should hardly
have known it; the sun can shine
brightly now through the clear glass;
and what a sweet smell of hawthorn ! ”
“Well, and my one-eyed servant?”
asked Bella ; “ you remember, I hope,
that I can’t pay her any wages; have
you met with one that will come ? ”
44 All’s right,” replied the little man,
nodding ; “ I’ve got her with me.’
44 Got her with you! ” repeated Bel
la, looking round ; “ I see nobody.”
“ Look, here she is! ” said the cob
bler, holding up something in his hand.
Would you believe it? The one-eyed
servant was uothing but a needle 1
yean Ingclo'w.
True Philosophy.
A mourner, bending over the tomb
in tears, cried, “ Oh, my brother ! ” A
wise man asked, “ For whom dost thou
mourn?” “For one whom I did not
sufficiently love whilst living.” “ W hat
wouldst thou do if he were restored to
thee?” “I would never offend him
by any unkind word.” “ Then go and
cherish the living, remembering that
they will die one day also.”
