"HE REDEEMED ME."

THE tears of a slave girl, just going to be put up for sale, drew the notice of a gentleman, as he passed through the auction-mart of a southern slave state. The other slaves of the same group, standing in the line for sale like herself, did not seem to care about it, while each knock of the hammer made her shake. The kind man stopped to ask why she alone wept, and was told that the others were used to such things, and might be glad of a change from the hard, harsh homes they came from; but that she had been brought up with much care by a good owner, and she was terrified to think who might buy her.

"Her price?" the stranger asked. He thought a little when he heard the great ransom, but paid it down. Yet no joy came to the poor slave's face when he told her she was free. She had been born a slave, and knew not what freedom meant. Her tears fell fast on the signed parchment, which her deliverer brought to her: she only looked at him with fear. At last he got ready to go his way; and as he told her what she must do when he was gone, it did dawn on her what freedom was. With the first breath, "I will follow him," she said; "I will follow him I will serve him all my days;" and to every reason against it, she only cried, "He redeemed me! he redeemed me! he redeemed me!"

When strangers used to visit that master's house, and noticed, as all did, the loving, constant service of the gladhearted girl, and asked her why she was so eager with unbidden service, night by night and day by day, she had but one answer, and she loved to give it—" He redeemed me! he redeemed me! he redeemed me!"

"And so," said the servant of Christ, who spent a night on his journey in a highland glen, and told this story in a meeting, where every heart was thrilled, "so let it be

with you. Serve Jesus as sinners bought back with blood; and when men take notice of the way you serve him, the joy that is in your looks, the love that is in your tone, the freedom of your service, have one answer to give, ' He redeemed me!""

"THANK YOU."

"MOTHER," said a little girl, "I gave a poor beggar child a drink of water, and she said 'Thank you' to me so beautifully; and it made me so glad, I shall never forget it."

Now, children can do a great many things worth a "thank you." Kind offices are everywhere and at all times needed; for there are always sick ones, sorrowful ones, poor ones, besides dear ones, to make happy by kindness; and it goes further toward making home happy than almost anything else. Kind offices also are within everybody's reach, like air and sunshine; and if anybody feels fretful, or discontented, or repining, or unthankful, and wants a medicine to cure it, I would say, Do a "thank you's" worth of kind offices every hour you live, and you will be cured. It is a wonderful sweetener of life. Try it.

THINK WHAT TO SAY.

XENOCRATES, an ancient philosopher, used to divide each day of his life into several parts, appointing each part to its proper engagement. One part he assigned to Silence, -wherein to think what to say. If the example of this great man, in this particular, were followed by every one, what happy scenes would many families present!

GREASING AN IDOL.

WE Sometimes shrink from showing heathen idols at our Sabbath-school meetings, because the sight of them sets all the scholars a-laughing. Here is an ugly, stupidlooking figure, made, we suppose, of wood or clay, set up at the roadside upon a stone under a tree. He has a head like an elephant's, with a trunk for a nose, and feet and paws like a beast. If it were not so sad to think of it, who could blame a boy or girl for laughing at this ridiculous monster? And yet this is a chief idol of the poor heathen in India, worshipped by millions of men and women who have minds, and hearts, and immortal souls, like ourselves.

They call him Gunputtee, though he has different names in different parts of the country. He is the god of books and learning! and most Hindu books begin by calling upon Gunputtee to help the man who is going to write it!

In eastern countries, as in Palestine long ago, it is reckoned a great comfort to have the head anointed with oil. The poor heathen think their idol likes this. So here is a Hindu pouring oil upon the head of Gunputtee, to refresh him, we suppose, and to make him well pleased. Poor idolater! He is an intelligent-looking man; but what a fool he is making of himself just now! To think that an ugly lump of wood like that can hear him, or do him any good, and that it will do so all the more readily because he greases its head with oil! It is to turn men to God from such guilty folly that our missionaries labour in India, where

"The heathen in his blindness

Bows down to wood and stone."

JACK AND THE BIRDS.

SOON after the close of the long French war in Europe, a boy was standing on one of the bridges at London, with a number of small birds in a cage for sale. A sailor, who was passing, observed the little prisoners fluttering about the cage, peeping through the wires, and manifesting an eager desire to gain their liberty. He stood for some time looking at the birds. At length, addressing the boy, he said, "How much do you ask for your birds?"

"Sixpence a-piece, sir," was the reply.

"I don't ask how much a-piece," said the sailor; "how much the lot? I want to buy all hands."

The boy began his calculations, and found they came to six shillings and sixpence.

"There is your money," said the sailor, handing out the cash, which the boy received with evident satisfaction at his morning's trade.