all the good things provided for them, when, in the midst of their enjoyment, in walked the good doctor, just when Mrs. Aiken was telling Mrs. Benson the history of all the proceedings since her visit. He insisted on their not getting up, but stood near the fire talking most kindly to them, and seeming much occupied in watching Willie's consumption of bread and butter. What is that that has made Fanny colour till her very forehead is suffused? she thinks her ears deceive her, or that she hears the well known note of her own bully; but then she thinks for a moment that it cannot be, for her own bully is far away, and how could she tell his cry from any other bullfinch's? still it is very odd, for she did not know Mrs. Benson had a bird, and so she feels very much fluttered, and puts down her bread and butter, and wonders what it can mean; when all of a sudden the Doctor pushes back the screen from behind the old lady's chair, and there on a little table stands the cage and her own darling bully, quite wild to get at his mistress, whose voice he knew directly. Fanny, quite overcome with delight, hid her face in her hands, and burst into tears. The Doctor didn't stop her, for he knew it was a necessary relief; but when she looked up all smiling through her tears, he put the cage in front of her, and opened the door, and in a moment bully was on her shoulder showing his glee in every way in his power, his round bright eyes looking rounder and rounder, and brighter than ever, and his whole air more joyous. The Doctor then said, "My dear Fanny, you must accept of a little token of my approbation of your conduct in all that has lately occurred; many girls might have attempted the same undertaking, but not many would have shown such patience and such industry in such very trying circumstances. You have to thank your mother, my dear child; for the good principles she has instilled into you-she has laboured so unceasingly to give you,-is 'Better than gold, yea, than much fine gold, sweeter also than honey and the honey-comb.' Walk in the same paths always, let what will befall you, and may God bless you, my dear child, now and evermore." There is an end of my story, and I hope my little girl will not only think of the amusement it contains, and long for another story to begin, but that she will follow Fanny Aiken's example; and, as she did, strive to do her duty in that state of life unto which it had pleased God to call her, and then I shall not have told my story in vain. THE BROTHER AND SISTER, A CONTINUATION OF "THE VILLAGE HOME." Part I. "Childhood is the bough where slumbered LONGFELLOW. "Whatever thou takest in hand, remember the END, and thou shalt never do amiss."-Ecclesiasticus, vii. 36. "And better it is to die without children than to have them that are ungodly."-Ecclesiasticus, xvi. 3. SHOULD any of my young readers remember poor Fanny Aiken, they will perhaps not be sorry to hear a little more about her, as we will resume her simple history just four years after the last story closed. There had been many vicissitudes even in her humble lot, and she had very soon found, for she was a child of a thoughtful disposition, that the. happy careless days of her childhood were F passed away, never to return, and though she daily thanked God for the many blessings belonging to her lot, she could not help being aware, that much trouble, arising from many different causes, was springing up around her, and that she must strive to bear as contented a spirit, now that sorrow was pressing upon her, as she did in those often remembered bright days of the past. The first two years after the threatened loss of her home had glided peacefully away, with much of happiness and enjoyment, but the next two had each brought their own peculiar share of trouble: her mother's health (though she scarcely liked even to admit it to herself, and shrank from the idea as if it was almost too painful to bear) was gradually failing; she watched her narrowly day by day, as one individual would watch another with whom their very existence seems bound up, and surely came the conviction on her mind, that each week, nay each day even, diminished something of this beloved parent's strength. Truly she had been a most dutiful daughter, and never was mother more fondly loved than poor Mrs. Aiken, and no lady in the land could be nursed with greater devotion, or more carefully tended than she was; money could not buy such nursing, and had it been in the power of love to avert the sad stroke, Mrs. Aiken's life would have been prolonged; but the decree had gone forth, and at the time we resume our history, it was clear to even the most careless observer, that the poor widow's days were numbered. Their good friend the Doctor had done all that skill could do to restore her at least partially to health; but though it is our duty to try all human means in our power in such a case, they can be of no avail unless blessed by our Heavenly Father. Here all efforts were vain, and no one could doubt that poor Fanny would, ere very long, be left in that most sad of all situations, an orphan, with a young brother almost entirely dependent on her exertions; but young as she was, she had been taught where to seek for strength, and knew full well that no burden was ever laid upon us too heavy for us to bear. What a sad lot, as she often reflected, had been her poor mother's, left worse than an orphan,a young widow with two helpless children; and yet how had she been supported through it all, and how much of comfort and even happiness had she known; these were blessed thoughts to Fanny, and great need had she of them, for she had another trouble, even sorer and harder to bear than her poor mother's failing health; and this was the misconduct of her young brother, the brother she so truly loved, and that she had striven so hard to keep in the right path during the last two years, when her mother, being almost entirely confined to the house, had not been |