found. Some account of his The truth is,

none of these things are to be call him Midnight Mark, on being up so much at night. that Mark is a poacher, and many people think that he is something worse. At any rate, he loves the wake and the public-house, keeps bad companions, and gets his living no one knows how. No wonder that his cottage and his garden are in disorder."

"Mark Holmes may keep his cottage to himself, for I have no wish for it.”

"There is a cottage under the wood that always took my fancy. It is the cottage of old Jasper Jennings; and when I look at it from the lane, and see the neat thatch, and whitewashed walls, and the open lattice, and the pear-tree at the corner, and grey-headed old Jasper sitting on the seat by the door with a book, and the light-blue smoke curling up from the chimney, and losing itself in the wood, I think on the words, 'Great peace have they which love thy law: and-nothing shall offend them,"" Psa. cxix. 165.

"I suppose Jasper Jennings loves his Bible?"

"He does, indeed; and when his grandchildren gather round to listen to him while he reads it, he seems the very picture of happiness and peace. While they sit around, fixing their sparkling eyes on his aged face, he reads

How Abram offer'd up his only son
In sacrifice, through confidence in God;
How Moses through the wilderness was led,
While cruel Pharaoh perish'd in the sea;
How David slew the giant with a stone,
And scatter'd widely all Philistia's host;
How Daniel in the lion's den escaped
Unhurt, because he trusted in the Lord;
And how the meek Redeemer bow'd his head
And died upon the cross for guilty man.'

And now, having told you all that I mean to say about old Jasper, I must bring my account to an end."

"I like the cottage, and the wood, and old Jasper Jennings; and I should very much like a pear from his pear-tree."

"Oh, if you get acquainted with the goodnatured old man, I doubt not that he will give you as many pears as you can put into your pocket: so now farewell to old Jasper. I will give you some field pictures when I next draw without a pencil."

Names of fields-Bushy Scrubs, with the ponies, the grey horse, and the young steers-Knolly Croft and the racing lambs-The clover-field, and the bees, butterflies, grasshoppers, and birds-The Twelve-acres, haymaking, and children at play-Downshire Bottom, the four plough teams, rooks, larks, and pigeons, with the hawk and mouse -The corn-field and the stubble-field.

"You said, father, that the next pictures should be field pictures, and I expect they will be very good ones. How I do like the

fields!"

"Most people do, Edwin. The fields are mentioned in one of the most beautiful verses in the book of Habakkuk, which shows the value of trust in God: Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation,' Hab. iii. 17, 18. There is so much variety in the fields on account of their different situations, their odd names, the different crops which grow there, and the varying seasons, that we never tire in gazing on them."

"Tell me some of the odd names of the fields."

"Oh! there is no end to them. Copsy Turf, Wood-side, Twenty-acres, Mutton-field, Robin Hood's Close, Pole-hurst Slip, Oak Land, Spout Meadow, Shoulder of Mutton Field, Peak End, Brook Mead, Parson's Paddock, Bushy Scrubs, Mill Hoppet, Little Go, Stony End, Great Hide, Flamsted Mead, May Meadow, Hunter's Plot, Knolly Croft, Downshire Bottom, Abbot's Bury, and Broomy Hill, are among them."

"They are odd names, indeed! Let me now have some of the pictures."

"Well! here is Bushy Scrubs, a piece of pasture land, half-covered over with gorse,

E

broom, large thorn-bushes, and brambles. There are two brown ponies and a grey horse grazing in it, while half-a-dozen young steers are pushing their way through the bushes and brambles. The grey horse is now switching his side with his tail; the ponies are galloping round the piece; and one of the young steers is capering about, uncouthly, with a bramble hanging to his tail."

"A very good picture indeed."

"In the Knolly Croft, the young lambs are racing up and down in the sunshine, as though they were too happy to be quiet. They look at one another as soberly as a bench of judges, and then set off scampering, helter-skelter, like mad things, to the far end of the field. Their Almighty Maker has been good to them, for their hearts are brimful, ay, running over with joy. The lambs are gentle, innocent creatures. Should they not remind us of the Lamb of God, that died to take away the sins of the world? I hope you like my picture of the lambs."

"That picture is as good as the other. Oh how I like to see the young lambs in the field!"

"The clover-field may be smelled a quarter of a mile off, it is so very sweet and pleasant. I call it a clover-field, though one part of it is covered with vetches; hardly do I know which smells the sweetest, the vetches or the