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"My dear Odora, do you love the Lord Jesus Christ?"

"I think I do."

"Why do you love him?”

"Because he first loved me."

Tears of gratitude ran down the cheeks of the aged pastor, as he repeated,

"Youth is the time to serve the Lord,

The time to insure the great reward;
And while the lamp holds out to burn,

The trembling sinner may return."

He walked away. The attention of the two girls was soon diverted, by sounds unlike that which they had just been listening to. On looking across the street they saw several boys of the lower class hedging up the way of poor David Bertram, as he was returning from the post-office; they had thrown handfuls of dirt into his face until he could scarcely see to go, tripping him up as he turned to make

his escape; a tall over-grown boy with a red face and inflamed eyes struck the sufferer as he was about to regain his feet, saying in a rough coarse voice, "Defend yourself, or I will keep you here till night." Odora as quick as thought rushed into their midst and commanded them to desist, with so much dignity that the brutal clan stood abashed. She stooped down, and with the help of Florence assisted David to arise from the ground on which he was sitting; and with their kerchiefs they brushed off the dirt as well as they could from his fine broadcloth.

Florence was sobbing aloud; while Odora indignantly told the boys that they ought to be ashamed to insult and abuse one that was entirely unable to defend himself.

"He is a fool," retorted one.

"If he is," answered Odora, "he is

wise enough not to return evil for evil, a knowledge which teaches him not to degrade and demean himself as you have done on this occasion."

The tall red-faced boy said sneeringly, “I had a hen crow this morning and I killed her, and I think her spirit has entered Miss Odora Morse, the queen of Roselle."

Odora, still maintaining her dignity, said, "John Windsor, I fear that you are in the broad road that leads to destruction."

A little boy affirmed what Odora said, by telling her that John had been down to Col. Bertram's old distillery, and had found an old barrel containing a quart of cider-brandy, and had drunk freely of it himself, and given the others all that they would take. Odora heard with astonishment, and resolved that if her teacher would let her select her next subject

for composition she would write upon the "Evils of Intemperance."

As Florence and Odora led David away, Florence asked her brother, Why he did not try to get away from those wicked boys?"

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"I did try."

"I should have thought you would have struck them back again."

"That would have been wicked, Flory; Jesus didn't strike when the wicked men struck him."

"I don't know but they would have killed you, if we had not come and helped you."

"The wicked men killed Jesus too!" The girls wept all the way home. The intellect of David had been injure when a child, and his health so nuch impaired that they seldom allowed him to go out alone. He sometimes went to the post-office when there was no one else to go, as

he had on this occasion; he was kind and affectionate in his disposition, and so conscientious, that he always chose rather to suffer wrong than do wrong. Josephine had taught him to read some; he was constantly in the society of his mother and sister, and they had been permitted to see that the Scriptures were so plain, "that the way-faring man, though a fool, need not err therein." David entered the house with his mouth partly open, and handed his mother a letter, saying at the same time, "I hope, dear mamma, that it is from Walter." Mrs. Bertram did not doubt this as her eye fell upon the post-mark. Walter informed his mother that he was about going into business, and hoped she would not be anxious about him. "The circle which I now move in, is a respectable one. Tell Joe, if she makes up her

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