2 
SEED-TIME AND HARVEST. 
They tried to comfort us, and said that he to heaven 
had gone; 
But we knew he didn’t want to go and leave us here 
alone, 
And so our hearts were heavy still, the world looked 
dark and drear, 
We tried to see it for the best, but we couldn’t make 
it clear. 
And all these long and weary years I know you’ve 
mourned for him, 
And many a time your heart has ached to see your 
absent Jim; 
Now look into my face, mother; you say it looks 
like his, 
And fancy he’s come back to you from out the world 
of bliss. 
Sit here upon my knee and lean your head upon my 
breast, 
I’ll fold you in my big strong arms, poor little 
mother, rest; 
I’ll shield you from the world’s rough winds and 
from its selfish strife, 
You love your sainted husband’s son; I love my 
father’s wife. 
I’ve stamps a plenty now, mother, I’ll share them 
all with you, • 
We’ll have a home together now, how think you that 
will do ? 
Oh, you needn't fear a rival, mother, I’ll stick to 
you alone. 
And love you good, and strong, and true, till my 
love on earth is done. 
So cheer up, little mother, and we’ll happy be, I 
know, 
And we’ll trust again the God we loved so many 
years ago; 
For, after all, His loving care is with us, don’t you 
see, 
In sparing me to you, mother, in sparing you to me ? 
So we’ll do the best we can, mother, till this short 
life is o’er, 
And then we’ll go to meet the loved upon the other 
shore; 
Our trials and our sorrows then will be forever done, 
And we’ll praise the great Creator through the merits 
of his Son. 
THE DONATION PARTY. 
BY LUCY - DEWEY CLAY. 
Chapter YII. 
The scene is changed. In a pleasant little 
cottage embowered in vines and shrubbery, 
outside, and denoting plenty and peace 
within, sits Annie Smith. 
It is early evening. The bright lamp 
shed a glow over the tasty furniture, the 
pretty pictures hanging on the walls, and 
the cheerful looking, neatly attired little 
lady who is so busily engaged on some- 
fanciful needlework. A smile of quiet 
happiness is beaming in her bright blue 
eyes, and hovering around the sweet mouth. 
The door opens and Fred Smith, the Fred 
Smith of old, looking radiantly happy, 
enters, and Annie springs joyfully up to- 
greet him, “What, home so soon Fred?” 
“Not too soon is it, my darling?” is the 
answer, as he kisses her fondly. 
“Oh no,” replies the happy wife, “but 
the hours fly so fast, I had hardly thonght 
of its being so near tea-time. Come, sit 
down, hero are your dressing-gown and slip¬ 
pers,” and then looking earnestly in his 
face, she says, ‘ But you look sober Fred,, 
has anything happened?” 
“I was thinking, my darling,—thinking 
of one year ago to-night—of the sadness in 
our home.” 
“Yes Fred,” softly answered Annie r 
“That was the night our little Willie went 
to Heaven. I too have been thinking of it,, 
the saddest, and yet the happiest night of 
my changeful life;” and then on seeing the 
earnest enquiring look of Fred, she added, 
“yes, for it gave me back my husband.” 
“Never more to wander, I trust. Oh, 
Annie, you have been my angel, my guid¬ 
ing star. Had you too forsaken, I should 
have gone on,—on—down in my mad 
career. But that night when I come to 
consciousness, and looked upon your sad, 
pale face, and heard no word of reproach,, 
though I had left you heart-broken and 
alone with our dying child, oh, how I 
abhorred myself for bringing so much 
sorrow and misery to your faithful heart,, 
and as we stood together and looked on 
the sweet face of our lifeless child, I made 
the vow, which with your influence and 
the blessing of God, has made me a man 
again, and to-night I promise you that 
henceforth all that is in my power shall be 
done to keep others from falling into the 
tempter’s snare, and something I have just 
heard strengthens me in my purpose.” 
“What is it Fred?” inquires his gentle 
wife. 
“You know,” is his answer, “that since 
Frank Jones left our place,, he has been 
more reckless than before; has squandered 
the remainder of his property, and last 
