"I'll give you two sovereigns for the five. It's a good price, but I mean it."

"I've told you I can't part with them," was Teddie Braham's reply to this offer of his schoolfellow, Gerald Keith, to buy his pet rabbits. "What, sell little Stripe, and Pickles, and old Brownie, and Spot, and Longears! I should be very badly off before I should do such a thing."

"Perhaps you think I haven't got the money. See for yourself," and Gerald displayed three glittering sovereigns.

"Are they all yours?" Teddie asked in amazement.

"Yes. It was my birthday yesterday; mother and father each gave me one, and Uncle Dick the other. You've only to say the word and two of them are yours. You have such a lot of pets, you won't miss your rabbits."

But Teddie was not to be tempted. He shook his head, smiling a little scornfully. Almost instantly, however, the smile changed into a look of alarm. One of the coins slipped from its owner's hand, rolled along the pathway, and before either of the boys could stop it, fell down the grating of a drain. For a moment Gerald, too, looked pale; then he broke into a laugh.

"It can't be helped," he said, "and there's plenty more where that came from. The worst of it is, mother told me not to carry the money about with me; but she'll give me another sovereign quick enough if I ask her. My father, you know, is one of the richest men about here."

He said it boastingly, and Teddy, having left his schoolfellow where the road branched off to their respective homes, went on his way, on that sunshiny June afternoon, thinking, rather seriously, how pleasant it must be to be as rich as Gerald. True, he had a great deal to make him happy; but, though comfortably off, his parents were not rich, and Teddie's mind dwelt longingly on the pony, the beautiful little tricycle, and handsome gold watch, of which Gerald was the proud possessor.

On reaching home, Teddie went straight to the drawing-room to find his mother. But a visitor was with her, and he had to wait before he could ask her to put on her hat and go out in the garden with him. He took up a book and sat down quietly. In a few minutes, however, his attention was caught by the conversation between the two ladies.

Mrs. Taylor, the visitor, told a sad story of a working-man, who, in consequence of an accident, had been unable to earn a penny for several weeks. His wife was also in bad health, and she and her seven young children were in great distress. Mrs. Taylor was trying to collect some money to relieve the poor woman till her husband was again able to work, and she asked Mrs. Braham for a subscription. To Teddy's surprise, she answered,—

"I am sorry that I cannot help you in the matter."

"But the smallest sum will be acceptable," said Mrs. Taylor; "five shillings, or even half-a-crown."

"I cannot even give you half-a-crown," and Teddy's quick ears heard his mother's voice falter as she said the words.

"Then," said Mrs. Taylor coldly, "I suppose it is no good to ask you to give your usual yearly donation towards the summer treat for the Sunday-school children?"

"It pains me to refuse you, but I must."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Mrs. Taylor rose to go, but Mrs. Braham motioned her to resume her seat.

"This must seem so strange to you," she said, "that I feel I must explain. My husband has had a sudden and very serious loss. He is now a comparatively poor man, and it would not be right for me to give, as I have hitherto been pleased and thankful to do."

Teddy could not bear to see tears in his mother's eyes. He went and stood by her side while Mrs. Taylor expressed her sympathy, and also her sorrow at having wounded Mrs. Braham's feelings. But Mrs. Braham said, with a smile, that no apology was needed; and then, having seen her visitor to the hall-door, she returned to the drawing-room, and took Teddie on her knee. He was eleven years old, but that was still his favorite seat. Very gently she put back the hair from his forehead and kissed him, and then suddenly she bent her head and burst into a fit of weeping. Wise Teddie only pressed his arms more closely round her neck, and said nothing till the tears began to stop. Then he whispered,—

"Won't you tell me all about it, mother?"

"Dear, this is the first real trouble you have known," she answered, "and I am so sorry that your young, happy life should be clouded. If we could keep the knowledge from you we would, but that is impossible."

Then she told him how his father had become surety for a friend, and explained that this meant a promise to pay a certain sum of money in place of the friend, if that friend should find himself unable to pay it. Mr. Braham had made a promise to pay a large amount on this condition, and it had fallen on him to fulfil his word.

"Is father quite poor now?" Teddie asked; "as poor as the people who live in the cottages in the lane?"

"No, dear; but we shall have to be very careful. I shall send Mary away and keep only one servant. In order to remain in the house we must let some of our rooms, and this year, at any rate, there will be no holiday for us at the seaside."

"I don't mind it for myself, mother," said Teddie lovingly, "I only mind it for you."

"But, darling, do you think you know what it means?" she asked. "No presents, no treats, very few pleasures of any kind. Can you meet all this patiently and bravely? If you do you will carry out Christ's command: 'Bear ye one another's burdens,' for you will be helping your father and me to bear our burden."

"I will try;" and though when Teddie raised his head from its resting-place his eyes were wet, his face still wore a look of brave resolve.

It was a promise which he at once began to carry out in deed. It would be hard to part with his rabbits, hard to go to Gerald and say he would accept his offer after the somewhat scornful way in which he had before refused it. But he did not know how much the sacrifice would cost until he opened the hutch, and out came the little animals for their evening meal. He took Stripe in his arms, and Brownie put her front paws on his knee, as if jealous of the caresses Stripe was getting. He felt he could not let them go. But the feeling only lasted a few minutes, and he hadn't a single regret when next day he placed two sovereigns in his mother's hand.

She could only kiss him and thank him. Not on any account would she have told him that had she known his intention she should not have allowed him to carry it out.

I am glad to say that in a few years Mr. Braham fully regained the money he had lost. But in better circumstances Teddie did not cease those loving acts of kindness and unselfishness which he tried so hard to practise for his mother and father's sake in their time of difficulty, and he still finds ways and means in which to obey that "law" of Christ: "Bear ye one another's burdens."