She bounced out of the school-room saying, 'Well, I neverand a clergyman, too!'

The reason of Mrs. Lord's hasty departure was, that Mr. Lord would have pretty well flayed his son alive, if he had learnt the whole of the affair; indeed, he would be mortified above measure, to find his son had disgraced him before so many people. Mr, Cudsden, however, then begged Mr. Childers to stop, for it was not necessary to fetch Mr. Lord, and took from his pocket a stout birch which he laid on the desk. He then told Lord to come with him into his private room, and accompanied by the master and the rod, he spoke for some minutes with Lord on the heinousness of the sin, and not seeing in him any appearance of contrition he administered the birch to him quietly, and impassively as if he were a machine, saying no words, except, that he desired the master to take him on his back and take no notice of his cries. After he had administered sufficient punishment, he waited till Lord had re-arranged himself; then opening the door he brought him out and said, 'boys, I have punished this boy for wicked and deliberate lying and deceit; he is not fit to be with you, for he is not sorry for his sin, or seemingly anxious to improve: stand with your backs to the door whilst he goes out-go Sir; let no boy say a word.'

Lord went out feeling he did not know how, he rushed home as hard as he could run, ran into his own room, threw himself upon the bed and hid his face in the clothes. Suddenly the demon seemed to rise in him; he tore the bedclothes off the bed, dashed about the room, and at length threw himself upon the floor saying, 'I hate him! I hate him! I'll be revenged on him!'

Mr. Cudsden addressed the boys after Lord's departure, reminding them that both he and they were subject to sin, and that seeing another fall ought to make them only the more careful and prayerful, lest they should fall likewise. He saw Lord's father in the evening and told him of the whole affair; his father would have rushed off to beat his son immediately, but Mr. Cudsden begged him not to do so, showing him how much his present punishment would lose in its moral effect, if a beating were administered to him in that way.

Lord promised to do what Mr. Cudsden asked him, and the clergyman advised him to put his son to some work where he would be well employed, and so they parted.

'For, indeed,' said Mr. Cudsden, as he bid him good bye, 'there is nothing truer than the old saying, "idleness is the parent of every vice."

(To be continued.)

HARRIET LONGLEY.

A TALE FOR CHILDREN.

(Continued from page 380, Vol. X.)

CHAPTER VI.

NEXT morning's post brought a better account of poor James, and Harriet woke with happier feelings than she did the morning before. Although she saw by her watch that it was only six o'clock, she arose, for it was a glorious September morning, and she thought a ramble in the grounds would be pleasant. So she woke the children and nurse, who with some trouble, and a tolerable degree of grumbling, permitted them to go with her.

So nurse dressed them very quickly, and they started for the common, where they had agreed to ramble. The children heartily enjoyed their walk, for Harriet's gentle control was nothing like the grumbling tone and scoldings of nurse. Harriet, too, played with them better than Lucy, who had to carry the baby, and they were sorry to return home; but their governess promised to take them out with her, if possible, another morning,, and that pacified them a little.

When they went to the school-room they began the usual routine, and when presently Anne came in; Harriet remembered the visitors, and enquired of her how they were. The servant replied that she did not know; but she would enquire. She soon returned, saying, that "Mrs. Neville was quite well, but Mr. Herbert was not, he had a very bad head-ache, so he was not up, and had had very little sleep."

VOL. XI.

When Harriet had finished the lessons, in passing one of the sitting rooms she saw the young man, who was now up, lying on the sofa. He was very poorly, and looked even paler than he did the night before. Lady Bloomfield graciously asked her to stay a short time with them, and Harriet did so, after telling the children that they might dine and play until she came to them. Luncheon, however, was soon announced, and Miss Longley returned to her pupils. In the evening she took them to play in the garden, where they remained until bed time; Charlie took a book which he wished to read, and which nurse was never willing for him to do; he knew he might when with Harriet. It was her plan to win the children by kindness; and so when Charlie spilt his tea into his lap, a gentle reproof was all her punishment, bidding him be more careful another time. This treatment succeeded well with them, and though they were fond of games and play, and especially out of doors amusements, they returned home obediently at the proper hour, remembering the promised walk in the morning, and that if they did not go to bed and to sleep, they would not be fit to undertake it; and very soon after their return, quiet reigned over the upper part of the house where the children slept. During the next morning's excursion on the heather, they espied in the distance a dense cloud of dust.

"What can that be?" said Charles.

"It must be some regiment going to Aldershott, through Bloomleigh," replied Harriet.

It was soon after the declaration of peace from the Russian war. In a few minutes the regiment passed, and the children thought they looked very handsome in full gallop, their armour and gay dresses flashing in the sun.

"Oh," said Charles, "how I should like to be a soldier." "I wonder what you will want to be next Charles," observed Kitty, "perhaps, a giant, as you never keep to one wish three days together, and they are generally of the most extravagant kind."

"Dont be impudent, Miss Kitty," he replied gaily, "or I will tumble you down this hillock in a twinkling.'

"Ah! that's not such an easy matter," she answered, and with a laugh the quick girl took her brother round the waist and gave him the punishment he had promised her.

Then one of them fell over a flower, which might otherwise have been doomed "to waste its sweetness on the desert air," as the poet says. Harriet admired it, and promised them when they returned to find out and tell them all about it, and to what class it belonged, if they were attentive and good at lessons.

The young guardsman still remained at Bloom House, he had been worse the preceding evening; he was in bed being so poorly, and Harriet, as the day was Saturday, a half holiday, when lessons were ended, offered her services to do any thing, as a sick person always gives a great deal of extra trouble, even in such a large house as that.

Her offer was gladly accepted, and she was asked to remain in the room adjoining the sick-room till the doctor came, and they knew what was the matter. He had said the day before that it was nervous head-ache, which would be well the next day. It was, however, plain to see that this was not all, and Harriet took her appointed place.

Soon the doctor, a fine old fellow as ever felt a pulse, came in, and many were the hopes and fears entertained about what he would say, but the former were all blighted when they heard him, shake his head seriously and say, that the young may was dangerously ill, and if great care were not taken of him, his complaint would probably be fatal.

The prospect of a sick, and perhaps dying man in the house was certainly not agreeable; but the doctor forbad them to move him saying, that if they did "they had better send for his coffin to take him in," so that was of course out of the question.

An experienced nurse was sent for, and till she could arrive Harriet supplied her place, as there was no one else who would do so.

All the weary night she watched by the sick man, and gave him his medicines, and the words of kindness and gratitude, though faintly uttered from his parched lips spoke volumes, and well rewarded Harriet for all she did. It was like balm to her world-wearied breast, like clear fountains running softly with their soothing music. It was life and joy to her to feel she was of service to a fellow-creature, and it spoke to her like the beautiful words of One who had said "Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden and

I will give you rest," and again, "Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls." She felt she had been proud and rebellious in wishing for what God had not given her, and that she ought to be content and humble. She saw one humble and contented, though stretched on a bed of suffering. She thought of one gone to his rest, whom she should never see again until they met in heaven; and when she lay down to rest for the four or five hours allotted to her, whilst Mrs. Neville took her place, her sleep was sweet and soft as a little child's, and in her dreams she saw one who said to her, "Harriet, follow the course you have begun, you have your Father's blessing;" and the kind face beaming with love smiled upon her.

She awoke and it was fled, and it was cold reality that she was now again alive to.

CHAPTER VII.

HARRIET LONGLEY roused herself and went to renew her weary watch. The sick was growing worse and worse, and the doctor said that if his sickness did not take a favorable turn in two or three hours he could not live. Oh, who shall tell the anguish of the parents, as they gazed on their only son, and whilst Harriet tried to comfort them with hopes she scarce entertained, she could hardly refrain from weeping herself. At last the critical hours were past, and the doctor announced that, unless he should have a relapse, his patient was out of danger.

How can be described the grateful hearts, which were raised thankfully to heaven that night! In what glowing colours can I paint the mother's feelings? the father's joy? The pen cannot do so; and, indeed, how could it? The mind must imagine all this for itself; suffice it to say, that no hearts could be more grateful for the mercy vouchsafed to them than were theirs.

Harriet continued her watch, gazing upon the rich woods around, and the bright lawn sloping down to their dark shades, until at last she was again relieved, and retired to rest; but not until she had poured out her heart in one long fervent prayer did she seek her pillow.

At length the nurse arrived; but as she considered herself