did not prevent them, but let them choose four of the prettiest nosegays, while poor Fanny stood blushing and trembling, and scarcely venturing to answer the questions put to her, when the nosegays were taken out of the basket. One of the little girls said, "Oh, nurse, what are those odd looking pegs for ?" Fanny explained, and nurse took one of the packets in her hand to look at, and said they were very nicely made and very useful, and she did not doubt but what Sarah, the laundry-maid, would be very glad of them, and so many more as she could bring, for she knew Sarah never could meet with them. This was a joyful hearing to Fanny: nurse paid her for the four nosegays threepence a piece; and for the pegs fourpence a packet, making in all two shillings and fourpence. She sold her eggs for fourpence, and all her herbs, for which she got eightpence; and one of the little straw mats, for which she ventured to ask sixpence, considering the trouble it had given her; so that altogether she took home to her mother three shillings and tenpence. All the way she walked she was reckoning on her fingers, if she got as much as that at each market, and there were five of them, how much it would be; and she made out that it would be not quite a pound, and then her heart sank, for that would be ten shillings short. But she didn't despond now, after doing so much better than she expected; she only thought she would exert herself still more than she had done. Poor child, that would not be easy, for she had not spared herself. Mrs. Aiken seemed very pleased when Fanny poured the money into her lap, and kissed her, and thanked her for what she had done; but she would not speak too encouragingly, for fear of making the disappointment still greater to her: she smoothed down her pretty bright hair, wiped her dusty shoes, and tried to make her cool and comfortable after her long hot walk. Little Willie was very happy when he heard his pegs had been sold, and showed Fanny some more that he had made; and while she rested, she thought of what more she could do in the time, for it was indeed but short. She had a kind friend at school older than herself, and she had taught her a neat pretty way of making pincushions and housewives, and she thought she would go to her the next morning, and tell her all her plans, for she had left school, and lived with a dress-maker, and she was sure she would help her. She was indeed a very pains-taking child, for it was no slight thing for a girl of her age to undertake such a task, and not to mind all the extra work and trouble that she gave herself; but you know, my little girl, that we can all do a great deal in furtherance of any of our wishes, and if we would only take as much pains to do what is right, and what is our duty, as we do to gratify any wish on which our hearts are set, we should make much greater progress in learning how to serve and please our Heavenly Father than I am afraid we now do. Remember this, my dear child, for it is of no use our hearing the histories of others, if we do not try to profit by what we hear. And Fanny in her industry, in her courage in bearing fatigue and disappointment, and in her untiring zeal in the works she had undertaken, was a good example for any one, even a much older person than herself. She was determined not to relax in her efforts, but was up early and late, and allowed herself no relaxation at all, for fear any chance should be lost. She had procured some bits of silk and ribbon from her friend, and had made as many pincushions and housewives as the time would allow; and so the weeks passed very quickly away,-too quickly for poor Fanny, for she felt as if each week that was gone brought them so much nearer to the time she so much dreaded, and if at times she felt hopeful, she was more often desponding, the very extent of her fatigue (and it was very hard work for a little girl) often made her feel sad, and as if, do what she could, there could be no hope. Her mother tried to make her take a little rest, but she could not prevail, she would only say, "Oh, mother, there will be time enough to rest byand-bye, if God is so good to us as to grant our prayers, and save us from this sorrow, but I cannot rest now, dear mother." Sunday, and its quiet thoughts and services formed a blessed rest to the poor child, and she never seemed so much before to have enjoyed the calm peaceful evening, when, sitting out of doors, on the banks in the pretty green field, she listened to her mother reading the Psalms, and then a chapter in God's Holy Word; it seemed to give her comfort, and teach her that whether her prayer was granted or not, they were equally the objects of their Heavenly Father's care. She went to bed quite refreshed, and rose in the morning feeling well able to resume all her work. But now, my little girl, we must go to bed, and to-morrow we will hear some more of Fanny's adventures. 66 Oh, mamma, I shall so long for tomorrow, and I do wish so I had known Fanny, and could have bought some of her things.' "You will see, my dear, that she does meet with some kind friends; but I have no doubt my little girl would have helped gladly had it been in her power: but now, good night! and may God bless my dear child now and evermore." THE VILLAGE HOME. Part II. "Come near and bless us when we wake, We lose ourselves in Heaven above." Keble. "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.—1 Cor. x. 31. THE second market day came round. The basket did this time look very pretty; there were the pretty housewives and pincushions of all sorts of gay colours, and the nosegays that she had taken great pains with, and walked very far to procure the flowers; and then she had tied them up with the ends of ribbon that her friend had given her. little straw mats, and all the things as nicely arranged as possible, and made to look as tempting as possible; and at the top of all, nice bunches of lavender for ladies to put in their drawers, and make their things smell sweet. She was very tired when she started The |