I

sn't it awfully cold for you and mother to travel at this time of year, father?" asked Hugh as he buttoned up his warm great coat to set out for school for the last time before the Christmas holidays.

"Very; but you see, my boy, urgent business calls me; and urgent necessity calls your mother."

"Oh, yes! but I wish it were summer. Are you really going on Saturday?"

"Yes, God willing."

Hugh went into the hall, where he found his brother brushing his hat.

"I wonder why father always adds 'God willing,'" he said in an undertone, "so few people do. Do you care about it, John?"

"Well, I can't say that I've come to doing it myself," answered John candidly; "but I do feel this, Hugh, that when they're out on the Atlantic I'd rather know they had felt it was 'God willing,' than that they should have acted on their own responsibility."

Hugh whistled. "You ain't getting preachified I suppose, are you, John?"

"No; but, all the same, I know when I think a thing's right."

"So do I; leastways I know when I'm in the right, and that's generally!"

"Or you think so."

"Of course; comes to the same thing."

Hugh had a pleasantly good opinion of himself, which often roused the ridicule and annoyance of his brother and sisters; and so before John was aware he found himself caught in an argument which was beginning to rasp his temper.

"Well, I'm off," he said, abruptly turning on his heel, thinking within himself that if his promise to Agnes was to be kept during his parents' absence it would be well to begin at once.

"Beaten off the field?" asked Hugh, laughing, while he turned round to give his mother a passing kiss.

"Teasing again, my boy," she said gently.

"Only on the surface, mother," he answered lightly.

"Do you not think that the surface of a mirror sometimes gets scratched, and cannot reflect back the same perfect image it should?"

Hugh shook his head. "Mother, I shall be late," he said, turning the handle of the door, and wishing to escape.

She smiled archly. "Next week there will be no mother to run away from, so listen, Hugh. Can't you invent some remedy for that tongue of yours?"

"I wasn't doing a bit of harm, mother, then."

"But if you could you would be 'able to bridle the whole body.' Think of that, Hugh! Can you not make up your mind to try?"

"All right, mother, I'll see about it."

"Not in your own strength though, dear."

He nodded, and seeing that he was let off, he darted through the door and was gone in a moment.

Mrs. Headley turned back with a momentary look of pain, then, as if those words were whispered in her ear she heard:

"In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good." And at that word she went into the dining-room with a smile on her face, and seated herself at her preparations with peace in her heart.

"What are you going to do for poor people this Christmas, mother?" said Minnie, throwing her arms round her mother's neck in her warm-hearted little way.

Mrs. Headley looked up from the close embrace with a smile, and answered, "We shall not be able to do very much this year, Minnie; but I have not forgotten."

"I did not think you had, only I do like to know."

At this moment Agnes entered the room, bearing in her arms a heap of garments, which she deposited on the table, saying to her mother, "This is all I can find, and they will need a good many stitches."

"I dare say they will," said Mrs. Headley; "but we must all help."

Minnie peered curiously at the assortment of clothes, and exclaimed, "Why, there's my old frock, Agnes! Whatever are you going to do with that?"

"This is part of what we are going to do for Christmas," said her mother.

Minnie looked incredulous, and turned over her brother's worn jacket with the tips of her rosy fingers rather disdainfully.

Agnes already had seated herself at the table, and was proceeding to examine each garment with critical eyes.

Mrs. Headley glanced at the little face opposite her, but made no remark as she leaned over to reach the old dress, which Minnie thought so useless.

"This wants a button, Minnie; get the box, and see if there is one like the others there."

Minnie sprang up to get it, and was soon engaged in searching for the button. "What's it for?" she asked.

"Some little girl who has a worse one than this."

"Are there any? I thought this was so very shabby."

"Plenty, I am sorry to think; but if we get this ready for some one, there will be one less needing a frock."

"Why is Agnes helping?" asked Minnie, drawing nearer.

"Because she wants to do something to make Christmas happy to others."

"Will this make any one happy?" asked Minnie again, her puzzled little face gradually assuming a more contented look.

"Should you not think so, if you had a little bare frock just drawn together with a crooked pin, and hardly covering your shivering little shoulders?"

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Minnie, now quite convinced, eyeing her warm though cast-off frock with fresh interest. "Could I do anything to help make it ready?"

"You can put on the button, and fasten this little bit of hem."

"Why do you mend all these things? Could not their mothers do it?"

Mrs. Headley did not answer, so Minnie sat down; and while she put on the button she pondered the question.

Meanwhile Mrs. Headley with rapid fingers was darning and patching, aided by Agnes, who sat industriously stitching away, silently buried in her own thoughts.

At last Minnie exclaimed, "Is this all you are going to do, mother?"

"No, my dear, we are making some puddings for three or four families."

"Oh, yes, of course! I knew you would; I do love Christmas."

"I wonder if Minnie knows or thinks about why we do it?"

"Because we love the Lord Jesus, I suppose," answered Minnie, looking up from her work with her tender little face.

"Not only that, dear, though that is one reason. Do you remember what we were reading the other day about dealing our bread to the hungry?"

"I think I do."

"And about visiting 'the fatherless and widows in their affliction'?" added Agnes.

"Oh, yes! but, then, this isn't visiting the fatherless and widows; this is making things at home."

"Should you like to help me take them when they are done, Minnie?" asked Agnes, looking up.

"That I should, if I might."

"You may, then," said her mother; "and I think you will understand their value better after you have been."

Just then John and Hugh came in from school, and guessing what their mother and sisters were engaged in, they suddenly disappeared; at which Mrs. Headley did not look surprised, nor did she either when they re-entered with her rag-bag, a large cardboard box, and a small parcel.

Minnie threw down her work and jumped up to examine this new marvel; but John, who liked to tease her, kept his intentions to himself, and taking a pair of scissors, bent down his head into the box, and was soon absorbed.

Hugh, who was less particular, opened the parcel, and drew out a piece of bright-patterned cretonne.

"Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed his little sister, leaning over the table. "What are you going to do, Hugh?"

Agnes glanced up, and reminded Minnie of her own work; but she was too busy in conjecturing what Hugh was about to heed.

He laid the piece out on the table, folded it in half, and proceeded to thread himself a needle.

"Are you going to work, Hugh?" asked the never-satisfied little maiden.

Hugh nodded, nowise disconcerted at her surprised tone, and soon he had begun to sew up the sides, clumsily enough perhaps, but still effectually.

Minnie found work was to be "the order of the day," so she relapsed into silence.

After an hour's close application, during which time Minnie had watched with curious eyes John's hand diving in and out of the rag-bag, Hugh pronounced his contribution done, and went over to his brother and asked him if his were ready. A whispered consultation ensued behind the cardboard box, and then there was some mysterious pushing and man[oe]uvring, which raised Minnie's expectation to the last extent. Her brothers, however, enjoyed keeping up the joke, and there was a fine laugh when they laid a neatly-finished cushion on the table in front of the inquisitive little girl.

"What is in it?" she asked, pinching and pulling it about.

"Only mother's woollen rags snipped up in tiny pieces," said Hugh.

"You should not have told her," remarked John; "but I say, don't my fingers ache! and isn't there a blister on my thumb?"

"Did you cut all that to-day?"

"No, we have been at the snipping business all the week, off and on, and I declare old Mrs. Hales will not have a bad pillow after all."

"Where is Alice?" said Hugh.

"She is doing her part," answered Mrs. Headley; "this is a busy time for cook, and Alice is helping her to make the puddings."

"When shall we go round, Agnes?" asked Minnie.

"On Christmas Eve, mother thinks."

"I wish it were here, then."

"I do not, for we must finish all this heap of mending first."

"You'll tell us who you give it to, Agnes, and all about your visits," said John, who loved a story as much as anyone. "It will make us 'good boys' when they are gone."

"Oh, yes," answered Agnes.

"Then we will wait patiently till then; and if you can think of anything we can help in, we are ready, mother, now it is holiday time."

"I will consider it," she answered, "but while we plan to do something for those in need, let us remember, my dears, one thing."

The faces were turned affectionately towards the mother, who so anxiously watched over her children, while she said gently, "It is not only that we are to 'visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction,' but we are 'to keep ourselves unspotted from the world.'"

"That's almost harder than the other," said Hugh thoughtfully.

"Except by 'looking off unto Jesus,'" said Mrs. Headley; "'I can do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth me.'"