I hope he will be back soon. I managed to get a pair of stockings done, and I told him to take them to Mr. Brown, and tell him to let us have as much meal as he thought they were worth."

While she was yet speaking, John came in. He was not much older than William. He was pale and thin, and his face was almost blue with the cold. He had a small tin pail filled with meal; he was about to mix some of it with water, before he attempted to warm himself. The truth was, he was suffering more from hunger than from cold.

William's father went out to the sleigh and brought in a basket which William had not noticed. It contained some bread and cold meat, and some tea and sugar. He gave John a piece of bread and meat, and he ate it eagerly. He then went to his sleigh again, and brought in a board that covered the sleigh box or seat, and split it up, and by that means caused the green wood to burn. After giving John some directions, and offering some words of encouragement and consolation to the sick woman, he took his leave.

The ride home was a silent one. William asked no questions, and his father thought it best to leave him to his own thoughts.

Just as they reached the house, he said to his son, "It would have been better to have had the storm continue all day, would it ?

"No father," said William promptly, but with a feeling of shame.

66

Why not?" you would have had deeper snow to play in."

"Yes, father, but when I said I wished it to keep on snowing, I did not think how it might affect other folks."

66 I hope you will remember the lesson you have learned this morning."-N. Y. Observer.

OLD I DON'T CARE.

BY OLD WINSFORD.

(A New Year's Gift.)

HE who is governed by the influence of "Old I Don't Care" is a sturdy character, possessing an unbending and apparently unbendable will. Incalculable have been the scrapes which such have got themselves into; but it has occasioned them but little concern; for in reply to corrective remarks from their friends, they usually sum up their arguments with the fool's reason, "I don't care." I remember one of this stamp. Great were the pains bestowed upon his education, for his parents whose education had been neglected, felt interested in his welfare. He was sent to an excellent school, and the master might be said to have done his duty to the utmost; but who can make a Demosthenes, or an admirable Crichton, from one only distinguished by such qualities as are seen in "Old I Don't Care." I have watched his progress now for many years, for we were young together, and I cannot but think that something profitable may be learned from one so erroneous in judgment, and wayward in practice. I think too that he derived a considerable amount of wilfulness from his parents; for they were very self-willed, particularly his father who had lost situation after situation of a profitable character, for no other earthly reason than his recklessness, for it was a rule with him never to care for anything. Even when the consequences of his perverseness were pointed out to him, in a manner clear as day, and which to any other person would not have failed to produce the desired effect, he rejected good advice, in a word, he went by the rules of contrary. He would sometimes enter upon employments for which he was not at all fitted, and embark his little capital in businesses for which he had no earthly qualification, and which nothing but his immense assurance would lead him to engage in; and failure after failure produced no impression or amendment, and even then the soundest advice was treated as impertinence, and all interest taken in his welfare as un

called for interference. His constant language was, "I don't care."

Now the son is the very image of his father, and pertinaciously treads in his steps. He is no longer a youth, but a man, and like Cain a vagabond on the face of the earth, shunned by all respectable people, and what his end will be is not difficult apparently to foretell. His lot is now poverty, misery, and shame, and I fear in the end will be eternal death; for he is still as reckless as ever, and says he does not care what the consequences may be, for he will have his way, and "there is a way which seems right unto a man, but the end thereof is death."

When the spirit of "I don't care" enters a youth, he then becomes impatient of control and impervious to reason; in fact, a complete personification of the evil one himself; and what can there be expected by such an one, but suffering, disgrace, and ruin! I well remember one who was proverbial for this unamiable and ruinous propensity. He neither cared for God nor man, and how could he care for himself, or expect others to respect him or care for him, for it is too much to expect others to respect us, if we do not respect ourselves. No pain, trouble, or anxiety that he inflicted on others, no, not even on his parents, occasioned him the slightest concern. Real gentility is distinguished by the care it has for others; but he manifested none of that amiable and delightful quality. He was a strong wellbuilt youth, just such an one as the recruiting sergeant would not fail to fix his eyes upon, and regard as suitable for what is called the service of his country; and as he did not care for temptation, he was soon enticed into a public-house, and took a few glasses of liquor, apparently very generously offered, and when a little elevated with the delusive draught, the fatal shilling which was to produce such a change in his future career was given and accepted. It was now too late to recede. In a short space of time he was sworn in as a soldier, free, able and willing to serve his king, and defend his country. Unspeakable was the grief of his parents; particularly that of his mother, who never imagined that she had nursed him for

a soldier. It almost broke her heart. After being trained he left the country, on foreign service. Letter after letter was written to him by his parents, and as he seemed to repent of his conduct and deplore his situation, being very desirous of quitting the army, strenuous efforts were made to release him. But twenty pounds, the sum required, was no small amount to raise by those who earned their bread by the sweat of their brow.

But what will not parental affection do? It led them to toil early and late, and to eat the bread of carefulness, and by repeated applications their employers were induced to lend the amount, which was to be deducted from their hard earned wages, and after the lapse of some months, to their great joy, their lost son like the prodigal, was once more under their roof. For some time he seemed happy and grateful, and he might have continued so, if he had not remained under the influence of Old I Don't Care, who so far from having been driven out of him, had apparently become more firmly fixed in him. In the army he had become acquainted with some only too much imbued with that leaven which had began to work in himself, and which threatened to leaven the whole lump. Before the money had been repaid, he plunged the family again into grief, by enlisting in the Honourable East India Company's Service. This stroke was too much for his poor mother, who rapidly sunk under it. Having attained to tolerable proficiency in his profession as a gunner in the Artillery, on the occasion of a public rejoicing, when firing a feu de joie, the gun burst, and himself and three others were hurried into eternity. Such was the end of another whom Old I Don't Care helped to ruin. He has ruined thousands and tens of thousands both for time and eternity. My dear young friends, mind he does not ruin you. Nor is the female sex altogether free from the influence of Old I Don't Care.

There was one, the pride of her mother, and the gem of the village. She possessed a little knowledge, or rather the means of acquiring it, for she could read her Bible, and she was pleasant and comely. She had arrived at the

critical period of eighteen. Her parents were still living, and Mary's company was sought, and desired by a young man who lived in the neighbourhood, but unfortunately he was not an abstainer from intoxicating drink, nay he had been seen in liquor several times. Mary was faithfully and frequently warned of what she might expect if she married a drunkard; but she indignantly repelled and resented the stigma, saying, that he was not a drunkard, that he only took a little too much occasionally. Now, according to Scripture, a drunkard is one "who tarries long at the wine, who goes to seek mixed wine." Mary could not deny that he went to seek liquor at times, and that he tarried long at it, but she excused him on the ground of company, and said if they were united she could no doubt prevail on him to stay at home with her; and marry him she would; for in that matter, as it concerned herself more than anybody else, she would have her own way, let the consequences be whatever they might, and she did not care what people might say to the contrary. Thus Old I Don't Care had got the mastery of her. It is now many years since, and Mary is now a wife and a mother, but I am sorry to say a drunkard's wife, and a careworn, sorrowful, and wretched mother. Those who saw her in her youth, would scarcely now know her. Life is now a burden to her, which I believe she would gladly get rid of at any cost but suicide; and what is still worse one or two of her sons are treading in the steps of their drunken and profligate father. O, Old I Don't Care, what mischief thou hast done! What innumerable evils hast thou led those into who have been guided by thee.

Another young man under the influence of Old I Don't Care, whose mind was well informed, possessing an amount of intelligence not often met within the lowly walks of life, and who was excessively fond of company, fell in with a number of young persons distinguished for their profanity and derision of things sacred, who prided themselves in their abominable atheistical notions. Though he was again and again warned of his danger, yet as their free jovial companionship pleased him, he was still deter