A Lesson From Boyhood Joys.

When but a lad I lived on yonder plain, I loved sweet flowers, and whene'er I'd see A rose bush fair, what joy it was to me Its blooms to seize, though thorns gave bitter pain.

And oft I followed in the schoolboy train That romped in summertime across the lea, And chased for hours the honey-laden bee, And dared its sting its burden to obtain.

Thus, aye when I look back to those glad hours, A pleasing picture to my mind they bring Which bids me strive even though failure lowers, Would Do must Dare. Cease thy vain murmuring.

Man must risk life's thorns to obtain its flowers. To taste its honey, he must dare its sting.

—H.

“Brown, Princess Street, Dunedin. Isaiah, IX. 6. Jock.”

Jeanie asked for her Bible, and turning the passage cited read:

“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.”

The suspicion of a smile flitted over Jeanie's face and the corners of her mouth twitched nervously, while a look that spoke of pride in her husband for a moment glinted from her eye. Then, repressing herself, and shaking a long white finger at her “man,” who, meanwhile, with a guilty flush on his face, was standing sheepishly behind his mother's chair, she said: “Och, ay, nae doot Jock's a lad o' pairts mair weys than ane; but wi' a' his ‘brains’ he's no' gaun to come the auld sodjer owre me.” Then to Jock: “I ken noo hoo ye got that whusky yestreen, an' ance I'm on my feet an' gaun aboot again I'll learn ye!”