A STORMY NIGHT.

Ir was a dark stormy night in February; the wind blew almost a hurricane on the rocky cliffs, and sweeping down the narrow gullies, made the very trees creak and moan, and shook the houses of a little village that lay beneath. At the entrance of the village stood a snug little cottage belonging to a Mrs. Elton, a very small place, but with a pretty garden at the back, which it was always the pride of the family to keep in. the neatest order. Tea had been put away some time, and Mrs. Elton and her daughter Mary, a girl of about sixteen, were seated near a blazing fire, busily occupied with their work.

"William is late to-night," said Mary, "perhaps he is gone to see James Wilson."

"More likely he is gone to have a look at the sea," replied her mother, "he loves a night like this; but here he is, to answer for himself,” she added, as the door opened, and a tall, sun-burnt lad entered.

"I suppose you have been to look at the sea, my boy," said Mrs. Elton, as Will sat down.

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Yes, mother, I've been at the lighthouse this half hour; its an awful night, and I trust the ships will keep their distance; they will have hard work to see our light to-night; and you know how dangerous the rocks are, mother."

"Ay, that I do, my boy," she replied, sighing as she spoke. Perhaps she was thinking of her husband, who had lost his life on a night like the present long years

ago.

"It is a long time since we heard from John," remarked Will, gazing at the fire as he spoke, "there will be a ship in soon, I should think."

"Our last letter was in December," said Mary; "just before Christmas, and then he was at the gold diggings."

I wish he'd bring home gold enough to buy back the old farm, mother; I heard say there's plenty to be got in Australia for digging, and it will be a long long time before I have saved enough even to pay the rent for one year. But, hark! was not that a gun?" They

listened until the report, at first faint, gradually became louder, and then Will, starting up, exclaimed, "It is a ship in distress; I will just run down to see if I can be of any use in helping them to get the life-boat out. Good bye, mother, it is late already, but I shall not be away long."

Mrs. Elton went with her son to the door and looked out. It was indeed an awful night; the rained poured down in torrents, and every now and then the wind swept by in such gusts, as almost to lift the widow off her feet. After a minute's earnest gaze on the dark sea that lay beneath, she gently closed the door, and sending Mary to bed, sat down before the fire to await her son's return. Mrs. Elton had known many sorrows; her husband had died young, and left her with three little children; the eldest, John, a high-spirited boy, had caused his mother much trouble and sorrow. While quite a boy he had taken a great fancy to the sea, and had well nigh broken her heart by running away and going on board a trading vessel bound for Australia. Before he landed there he had had quite enough of a sea-faring life, and after trying in vain various modes of obtaining a livelihood, he had at last determined to go to the gold diggings, where he was when his family last heard of him. Perhaps of all Mrs. Elton's children William was her darling, and she had indeed reason to be proud of him, for there was no better or more clever boy in the village. Before the father's death, the Eltons had lived at a little farm about a mile from the village, and Will, who just remembered the happy time they had spent there all together, determined not to rest till he had earned enough money to buy back the old place.

Will hurried as fast as possible to the shore, which it was no easy matter to reach, as the wind was against him, and blew so strongly that he had many times great difficulty in keeping his feet. When he gained the shore, he found the life-boat was already prepared for launching by the two weather-beaten sailors who stood beside it.

"What are you waiting for, Harding? the boat is all ready, is it not?" asked Will.

"Yes, my lad; but we are waiting for Dickson, he is not come down yet, and I am afraid there is not much time to lose, they fire oftener than ever now."

"What! are you waiting for Dickson? Perhaps he has not heard the guns: he lives quite at the other end of the village, you know."

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Ay, ay! but I reckon he's not at home, he did talk of going to Portsmouth to-day to sell that young horse of his; he'd have been here before this if he'd been at home, seeing I sent my boy to fetch him as soon as ever I heard the guns. We shall be obliged to leave poor creatures, I fear,” he added, "it would be madness to go without a helmsman on such a sea as this." "Then take me with you, Harding, you know I know the coast as well as any man hereabouts."

the

"Why, as to that, you certainly know the coast well enough, but remember your poor mother; what should I say to her if anything were to happen to you, and yet it is a sin to leave those poor creatures there to drown so near the shore and help too."

“You need not mind taking me with you Harding, I am sure my mother would much rather I should perish, if it is God's will, in the attempt to save a fellow creature's life, than be haunted all my days by the sound of those guns."

So saying he gave the boat a push, the other two jumped in, and they were soon afloat. For some time not a word was spoken, indeed they would have found it difficult to hear one another, as the noise of the wind and the dashing of the sea against the rocks was almost deafening, but at length by Will's careful steering, and the hard pulling of the two sailors, they succeeded in clearing the rocks, and pausing a moment, they gazed in the direction of the ship, which was now distinctly visible whenever a bright flash of lightning illumined the sky.

"There is no time to lose, pull away, Winters," said Harding as he again commenced rowing, "God grant that we may be in time to save them; they hardly ever fire now."

They pulled on again in silence, and at last gained the ship. They were but just in time, as she was

already sinking fast. Fortunately it was not a passenger ship, or it would have been impossible to save every body in one small boat. The sailors jumped over the side, and grasped the hands of their brave deliverers. The life-boat was beginning to move off when a shout caused them to pause, and at the same moment a man rushed to the side of the ship.

"Tis' Elton," cried the captain "he was working at the pumps, I had quite forgotten him."

"Jump in," cried Will, springing forward as he heard the stranger's name. In another moment John Elton was safe in the boat. As Will grasped his brother's hand a bright flash of lightning illumined the sky, and struck the only remaining mast of the ship, which fell with a loud crash. In falling it struck Will, who dropped senseless at the bottom of the boat.

One lovely evening, three days after, when the storm had entirely disappeared, and only Will's continued illness reminded the inhabitants of the village of what had lately happened, Mrs. Elton sat besides her son who lay gazing at the sea, now bright and calm, and the sun that was slowly setting behind it.

"Mother," said Will, "I feel I shall never get well, but you will not miss me much mother, you will have John to take care of you now." Mrs. Elton's tears were her only answer, and he continued "though I have been very happy here, mother, I shall be far happier where I am going, and you will come there too," he said with a bright smile, "in a few years I trust we shall meet again.' There was silence for a few minutes in the sick room; at last Will said, "Mother, will you call John and Mary? I should like to speak to them again. You will take care of mother, John," he said, as they stood around his bed, "and work for her as I would have worked."

The sun sank behind the sea, its parting rays lighted up the sick room, a smile illumined the face of the dying boy, he murmured something, they stooped to listen and found he had ceased to breathe.

Years rolled on; Mary had been for some time at service in a neighbouring town; John worked steadily, and

spent little except on his mother's comforts. It was a lovely day in summer, when a cart containing several boxes, on one of which sat an old woman, stopped at the door of a farm about a mile from N- A tall, sun-burnt young man had been walking by the horse, and as he knocked at the door of the farm, it was opened by a neatly-dressed young woman. What, Mary, you here," exclaimed her mother, "this is indeed a delightful surprise."

"Yes, mother, and I am always going to stay here now; John says you will want somebody to help you to churn, and take care of the farm."

It was a very happy family which took possession that day of the old farm. In the evening John proposed that they should go to William's grave; and giving his arm to his mother, they sauntered out towards the churchyard.

"How delightful it is to think that Will is perhaps looking at us now," said Mary, as she seated herself on her brother's grave, "he always wished us to go back

to the old farm."

Ab," said John, sadly, "and it was knowing it was his wish made me work so hard to earn money enough to buy it back.'

Yes, it was through Will's example that John, instead of being a trouble to his mother, became a comfort to her. With thankful hearts, full of bright hopes for future usefulness, they all lay down to rest that night.

H. D. R.

FIRST GOING TO SERVICE.

CHAPTER III.

(Concluded from page 32.)

"SARAH, I have not forgotten that it is Sunday afternoon; go and get your books, and come upstairs to me, I am ready now to hear your lessons."

The summons was an unexpected one. Miss Wainwright had been absent three weeks, (quite long enough for her pupil to relapse from some of the good habits into which she had trained her) and, as she had only returned home on the previous Thursday, and had been