HE house of the Heedmans was the end cottage of a long row, built for and occupied by the miners employed at the colliery that you might see in the distance. There were several rows of these cottages, but Adelaide Row, in which the Heedmans lived, was certainly the best in appearance. It was farthest from the mines, and was sheltered from the coal dust by its less fortunate neighbours. The houses looked cleaner and brighter altogether, and the little gardens flourished better.

John Heedman's garden was the pride of his heart, and the admiration and envy of the rest of "the Row." It certainly did look very gay and pretty. There were bright China-asters, sweet-scented stocks, French marigolds, rose bushes laden with blossoms, little clusters of candytuft, Virginia-stock, mignonette, and many other flowers, contrasting well in colour, and grouped in such good taste.

If John Heedman took a pride in his garden, Mrs. Heedman certainly took a pride in her house. Not that their furniture was more expensive than that of many of their neighbours, but it was in good order and neatly arranged. Nice white curtains were up at the windows; a few sweet-smelling flowers stood in a glass; and in a corner were some bookshelves, made and painted by John Heedman himself, after work-hours, and very well stocked with good books; altogether there was an air of cleanliness, comfort, and refinement over all that made you wish to know the owners.

Mrs. Heedman often said in answer to her neighbours' remarks "that she must spend a deal of money over her house."—"It costs me nothing but a little thought and extra work. The poorest of us may indulge in order and cleanliness indeed, when you come to think of it, dirt and disorder cost the most, because your furniture gets soiled, and knocked about, and destroyed."

After Mrs. Heedman left Charlie, she began to prepare her husband's tea in the next room; and nicely she looked, as she moved lightly about in her clean light-print dress and white collar, her dark hair smoothly and plainly arranged, and a smile on her face. It was a face that made you look twice. Her eyes were so calm, so full of peace, you felt instinctively it was that peace which God alone can give. Some people do not believe that Christianity can make them happy; that is, because they have never felt it in their hearts. It is a peace which passeth all understanding. She was thinking of Charlie; how he would learn to love her, and please God; what a scholar he would be, and how carefully she would train him. She was trying to picture what he would be like if he lived to grow up, when John Heedman opened the door.

"Tea will be ready in a minute, John," she said, looking up; "I've been sitting with that dear child, and the afternoon has flown I scarcely know how. He got a turn for the better about one o'clock, and woke up quite conscious and sensible;" and stepping softly to the door, she beckoned him to follow. They both stood looking at Charlie as he slept. He was very pale, traces of tears were still on his face, and one little thin white hand hung listlessly over the side of the bed. John Heedman stooped and touched it gently with his own rough, strong hand. "Poor little one!" he murmured.

That night, as John Heedman and his wife sat at tea, they determined to adopt Charlie, and make him as their own.

"I think," said John Heedman, "we ought to accept this child as a sacred charge from God, sent to us to be taken care of and trained for Him. Our duty seems plain enough; it is true we shall not be able to save so much, but perhaps there was a danger of our getting too fond of our bit of money; and God has seen this and sent the child, that, through it we may lend the money to Him. We shall have our treasure in heaven, instead of laying it up on earth."

"That is true," said Mrs. Heedman. "We shall be no poorer for what we spend on the child; and as for our old age, we will trust to the Lord—He will provide."

In a week's time Charlie was able to sit up; his favourite seat was at the open window, looking out into the pretty garden. He would sit for hours watching the gay butterflies and busy bees, roving from flower to flower, and gazing up at the ever-changing sky. The soft, fleecy clouds that sailed along so gracefully, Charlie liked to think were the robes of angels on their way to heaven with little children.

In a few weeks' time, to his great joy, he was strong enough to go back to school; he was fond of learning, and the Heedmans were anxious for him to have as much schooling as they could possibly afford.

John Heedman had enjoyed a good plain education himself; he was intended for a tradesman, but his father died suddenly, and his mother and young sister being left dependent upon him, he went to work down the mine, as the wages were higher than he could get at any other employment. It was a great disappointment and trial to him, you may be sure; but he very wisely made the best of it, and thought to himself, "Well, if I am only to be a miner all my life, it does not follow that I need neglect my learning: it will always give me pleasure, and occupy my mind; and I shall be serving God better by improving myself, and using the powers He has given me."

He carried out this idea, and became a thoughtful, intelligent, well-informed man, respected both by his employers and fellow-workmen, and, what was better than all, he found favour in the sight of God. By the grace of God he was led to feel himself a poor sinner, and sought forgiveness through the precious blood of Christ. For a long while he groped in the dark, with the burden on his shoulders; but reading one day that passage in the third chapter of John,—"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have ever-lasting life. For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved," the light burst upon his mind, his prayers were answered, and he became an earnest Christian, a faithful soldier and servant of the Lord Jesus Christ; and he was rewarded—not with any great earthly riches, but with much peace in his heart, with great strength and comfort in time of trial; with home happiness, and much that might have made him the envy of princes, who had shut themselves out from the love of God.

He made the good choice in his youth. He sought the Lord early, and found him, and He escaped the terrible anguish and suffering that attends repentance after a long life of careless sin.

All through life he had the love of the Saviour to help and cheer him on his way; in temptation he had God to look to for strength; in sorrow he had the Saviour to turn to for sympathy and help. Each night he asked forgiveness for the sins of the day, and each morning he sought a blessing and preservation, and went forth with a light heart, praising God, and full of thankfulness to Him for His mercy.

There was no anxious care for the future, in his heart he knew that his heavenly Father would guide him and care for him day by day.

It seems most unaccountable that any one should willingly refuse all this happiness; and yet how many boys and girls there are who never pause to think what choice they have made, and which master they are serving. You must be serving one, either God or the world. Which it is your own heart will tell you. Remember God will have no half-service. He has said, "He that is not with Me is against Me."