Every year his services are more valuable. The boy is ambitious, and is not satisfied to travel in a circle. He wants to make some headway, and it's only natural."

The farmer leaned his head on his hand, a look of deep thought on his grave, weather-beaten face. His gentle sister-in-law's plain speaking had given rise to thoughts which had never before entered his head.

"I believe you are more than half right, Hester," he said at last. "I'll think it all over to-night, and make up my mind what to do. I'd be lost here without George, and he shan't leave the farm if I can help it."

"Force won't keep him, John; remember that," and Mrs. Lucas, feeling that she had said enough, folded up her work, and taking up a lamp from the shelf by the stove, went upstairs to her own

room.

Just at daybreak she was aroused from a sound sleep by the sound of horse's hoofs in the yard, and looking out of the window saw John trotting away on Roan.

'Where can he be going at this hour?" When she came down stairs at six o'clock, George was standing by the kitchen table, having just come in with two pails of milk. His face wore a discontented, unhappy look, and he merely nodded in return to his aunt's cheery, "Good morning."

A few minutes later his father entered, but George, who had gone to one of the windows and was looking out dejectedly, did not even glance up. "You were out early, John," said Mrs. Lucas. "I heard you ride away at daybreak."

"Yes, I went to Pine Edge on a matter of business.'

"That's where you sold Vixen, papa, isn't it?” asked little Harry, and Mrs. Lucas saw a quiver pass over George's face as the child spoke.

"Yes, my boy, I sold Vixen to a lawyer Stanley. George," turning to his son. "I've made up my mind to part with that fifty-acre lot by the river. What do you think of that?"

"Of course you are to get a good price for it, sir," said the young man indifferently. "It's the best piece of land you have."

"But I haven't. I am going to give it away." "Give it away!" repeated George, roused out of

his indifference and staring at his father as if he had not heard aright.

"Yes, deeded it, every inch of it, to some one I think a great deal of, and who deserves it," laying his hand on his son's shoulder, and his voice weakened a little. ened a little. "I'm going to give it to my son, George Harwood, to have and to hold as he sees fit, without question or advice."

"To me! You intend to give that fifty acres to me, father?"

Yes, my boy, and with my whole heart. You've been a good son, George, and I wish I only were able to do more for you. But I am not a rich man, as you know, and I have your mother and three little ones to provide for, too. Still I want you to have a start, and this fifty-acre lot will yield you a handsome profit. You can have three days a week to call your own, and that will give you a chance to work, and if you choose to break that pair of young oxen I bought the other day from Bagley, you can have them for your trouble."

"This this seems to be too much, sir," stammered George, "I don't know how to thank you."

Too much! Then I don't know what you'll say to this," and the farmer took his son by the arm and led him out on the porch. "There's another present for you, my boy."

66

Vixen!" The word came from George's lips with a long sigh of joy, and with one bound he was at the side of the black mare he had thought never to see again, and had both arms about her neck. "Oh, father, I'd rather have Vixen than anything else in this world!"

And he buried his face in the pretty creature's mane, and in spite of his eighteen years, fairly broke down and sobbed.

That ended George's desire to leave the farm. He was never again heard to mention the subject, and he grumbled no more about hard work and the monotony of his life, but in every way tried to show his appreciation of his father's kindness. In fact, John Harwood was wont to say occasionally in confidence to his wife that he had reason to bless his sister-in-law for her good advice, and that he owed it to her that he had a stalwart arm to lean on in advancing years.

But George never knew to what he owed the change in his fortune.

scale, be satisfied that it depends upon yourself to raise yourself to a high rank, if not to the very highest one. You may feel yourself in darkness, you may deem yourself a while to be incapable of original thought, but then you are no worse off than your neighbors. They were all in the same predicament till they brought out their capacity for themselves. What is said to one should be said to all. Do but read and meditate, and if you only persist in the experiment, you will, infallibly, in spite of yourself, succeed. You will have difficulties, severe difficulties to encounter, but, if you take to your heart, as you well may, the assurance

might be a true pleasure, your contest a prolonged delight, and what though the night be lengthened to your expectations? The dawn will surely appear to him who has patience to await, and to dwell steadily upon his purpose. For the angelic nature is not raised higher above the human than is the nature of the thoughtful mind above that of the unthinking one. Therefore press forward to your calling, not anxiously, but hopefully and strenuously.

Go on in your studies, and what is more important still, continually exercise yourself on what you have learned, and, God's benediction resting upon your work, your perseverance He will crown with success.

URING the reign of Frederick II. of Prussia, the tallest man in the Grenadier Guards was an Irishman named Patrick Doyle. In the same company was a Corporal Muller, who subjected Patrick to all kinds of petty annoyances, because the Irish giant was two inches taller than himself. The king at this time usually took long, solitary rides into the country, dressed in the plainest garb.

One day he sallied forth from the celebrated Brandenburg Gate, and rode into the country unattended.

When about eight miles from Berlin he saw a young woman of gigantic stature digging in the fields. This young person was but 19 years of age, but she stood 7 feet 2 inches in her shoes. She was so tall that it was positively an inconvenience to her. If during the holidays in carnival times she came to Berlin, a rabble followed her in the streets; if she accompanied her friends to a theater, there was always an outcry from the persons behind her that she was to sit down, though, poor thing, she was already seated; if she visited the public gardens to see the fireworks, some in the crowd were always sure to exclaim that one solitary female was standing on a chair, and that it was unfair to the others. People who did not like to be overlooked complained that she peeped in at their first floor front windows. The poor girl had once to travel from Berlin to Magdeburg, and she was compelled to ride with her head out at the window of the diligence the whole journey, for she could not sit upright in the carriage. In short, she was too long.

But not so thought the King of Prussia. We have before alluded to his predilection for tall soldiers, and he imagined, on looking at this splendid female specimen, that if she was mated with an equally tall specimen of the other sex, a couple of the kind must produce very large children.

The regiment in which Pat Doyle served was now again quartered in Berlin.

Frederick viewed this young peasant with almost as much delight as King Arthur beheld Glumdalcha, in the tragedy of "Tom Thumb," so he dismounted, and entered into conversation with her, and was overjoyed to hear that she was a single woman, and that her father was so poor that she was compelled to work in the fields. The King, who was never to be driven out of any project he had once formed, mounted his horse and rode to the nearest house, where, procuring pen, paper and sealing wax, he wrote as follows to Col. Ferhbellein:

"Colonel-You are to marry the bearer of this note to the tallest of my grenadiers. Take care that the ceremony be performed immediately, and in your presence. You must be responsible to me for the execution of this order; it is absolute, and the least delay will make you criminal in my sight. FREDERICK."

In penning this billet His Majesty had the fortunes of Mr. Doyle in view; but he did not particularize, that he might not cause any unnecessary jealousy among the grenadiers of Col. Ferhbellein's regiment. After he had sealed this epistle he rode

back to the field to the tall young lady, who wondered at the reason of being thus accosted, and gave her the letter, without informing her of its contents, and ordered her to deliver it punctually, according to the direction, and not to fail, as it was an affair of great consequence. His Majesty then made her a handsome present in money, and continued his

route.

The tall young woman, who had not the least idea that it was the king who spoke to her, returned home when her work was over. In the cottage where she lived was her aunt, a little shrew, with a turned-up nose, blear-eyed, and smoke-dried, of a pestilent temper, but with no bad opinion of her looks, good sense, and general deportment.

The next day there was some hay to be stacked, and, as the stack had already risen beyond the pitch of the usual run of men laborers, the tall young woman had undertaken to fork it up, and, believing it to be perfectly indifferent whether the letter was delivered by another, so as it came safe to hand, she charged her brisk old aunt with the commission, laying express injunctions on her to say she had it from a man of such a garb and mien.

The old termagant aunt was delighted at the prospect of her trip to Berlin, for she wanted to see the fashions, and to replenish her snuff-box; so she adorned herself in her bright holiday clothes, partook of a plentiful breakfast of cabbage soup, and was soon on the road for the capital.

On her arrival she presented herself at the barracks, and the orderly on duty carried the letter to the Colonel, Count Fehrbellein, who, on receiving this extraordinary mandate in the well-known and revered handwriting of his sovereign, desired the young woman to be conducted to his presence.

At the epithet "young woman," the Colonel was surprised at a grim smile on the countenance of the orderly, as he quitted the apartment. The Colonel was more surprised when the aunt entered and bobbed her best rustic courtesy, but he was sorely puzzled at the contents of the letter, for he could not reconcile them with the age and figure of the bearer.

Yet, the order being peremptory, he thought he could not, without danger of the displeasure of his Sovereign, recede from obeying, so he commanded the orderly to send the adjutant to him. On the arrival of that functionary, the Colonel inquired who was the tallest man among the grenadiers. The adjutant instantly replied that the Irishman, Patrick Doyle, exceeded the whole company in

stature.

It then flashed across the mind of the Colonel as he glanced at the shriveled shrew of a woman, that the King, in his own eccentric way, wanted to punish Patrick for a recent misdemeanor, by matching him in so disagreeable a manner. And this was a very natural conjecture. So Pat Doyle was sent for. The Colonel, prefacing the business, read Frederick's letter. Doyle looked at the little aunt, and, assuming a dejected air, exclaimed:

Och! what will my mother say?" "Your mother?" inquired the Colonel.