WHILE his mother was speaking, Fred had dropped his cap to the floor, and sat looking at her, his eyes staring wide open.

“Why, ma,” he said, eagerly; “I didn’t know that God would care.”

“There is nothing, my child, that our heavenly Father loves more than a grateful heart. How often did David express his gratitude to the Most High. He says, ‘It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto thy name, O Most High! to show forth thy loving-kindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every night.’ Again he says, ‘I will bless thee while I live. Seven times a day do I praise thee.’ The Bible is full of thanks to God for his continued mercies to his undeserving creatures. Moses, the great lawgiver, commands, ‘When thou hast eaten and art full, then thou shalt bless the Lord thy God.’ Joel says, ‘Ye shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord thy God.’ Even Jesus, who as God, was the Creator of all things, when he took the seven loaves, gave God thanks for the means to satisfy the hunger of all the multitude.”

“I never thought of it before, ma. I don’t believe I shall forget again. I know, when you pray with me, you always say, ‘We thank thee for food and all our blessings;’ but I never before thought that he wanted us to do it.”

“A grateful heart, Fred, thanks its benefactor, because it loves to do so; it cannot help it.

“Don’t you remember, the last time your father came home, how pleased you were with the birds he brought you? You could not stop thanking him. Over and over again you said, ‘O pa, I’m so much obliged! These are just what I wanted. I’m so very glad! And I thank you so much!’”

“Yes, ma; I remember all about it.”

“Don’t you think your father was better pleased than if you had taken the cage, hung it up by the window, and said nothing about the birds?”

“O ma! of course I wouldn’t do that, when he had brought them over the ocean for me.”

“Or, suppose Hatty had taken the beautiful silk he bought for her in Canton, carried it to the dressmaker’s, and then worn it without ever thanking him for his kindness; would he have been encouraged to bring her another present, do you think?”

“No, indeed, ma.”

“Shall I tell you what I was thinking when you were trying on your vest?”

Fred held down his head, his cheeks covered with blushes.

“I said to myself, ‘My son feels very indignant because Mrs. Perry did not thank him for carrying home her cat. Now, if he himself had a grateful heart, he would thank me for taking so much pains with his new suit, instead of being so sulky about the trifling annoyance of trying it on. I had better make the vest anyhow since he is so ungrateful.’”

“Did you think that, ma? I’m real sorry. I wont act so again. I have thought ever so much about it; and last night, after you prayed with me, I said to myself, ‘I ought to be a real good boy, ma’s so kind to sit up and work on my clothes.’”

Ned Perry was in the same class at Sabbath school, as Fred Carleton. As they were walking home together, Ned said,—

“I don’t see how our cat happened to run away. Mother said you brought her home.”

“Yes, I did! If she comes again, I sha’n’t try it through all the mud. I got awfully tired.”

“Why didn’t you keep her?” “I thought you’d be looking everywhere; and Hatty said I ought to go. I’ll give you my new top if you’ll let me keep her.”

“I’ll do it; for mother hates to have her round; she kills chickens so.”

“Kills chickens! Oh, I guess that’s what she was after at our house.”

Fred suddenly remembered that he had first seen her near the hen-coop; and he also remembered that this was Sunday, and that he ought not to have been making bargains about cats.

“That was a real good story Miss Darling told us to-day,” he said, changing the subject.

“Yes, she’s a tip-top teacher! She makes us understand the lesson; and that’s what I never did before.”

“I’m going to wait here till Hatty comes up,” said Fred, stopping at the corner where his companion had to leave him, and looking earnestly up the street. “When do you want the kitty?”

“I don’t want her if she kills chickens; but I’ll talk with Hatty about it to-morrow.”

“Did Ned thank you?” asked Hatty, smiling.

“No, he don’t want the cat!”

Fred then repeated the story which his teacher had related. The subject of temperance had come up in connection with the lesson, and Miss Darling wished to impress upon the minds of her class the evils of drunkenness. As you may like to hear the story, I will relate it in the next chapter.