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private secretary to the distinguished lawyer whose faithful office boy he began to be so many years ago.

The dear old grandmother is living still, tenderly beloved and attended in the pretty home which her boy has made for her. “The best investment I ever made,” he says sometimes laughingly, “was when I shared my supper with a wounded and suffering animal.”—Humane Journal.

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Memory Gem.

“He prayeth best, who loveth best,

All things, both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.”

LESSON XX.

SACRIFICE.

Teachers' Reading: Life of Christ, Farrar.
Picture: “Christ and the Rich Young Man.”

CHRIST AND THE RICH YOUNG MAN.
Matt. 19: 16-30; Mark 10: 17–31; Luke 18: 18-30.

The young man—the questions—the answers of Jesus—the sacrifice required by Jesus.

HAZEL AND MOLLIE.

(Founded on Fact.) There was a “Doll Show” in New York City last March. Naturally all the children who knew about it wanted to go, although there were many who had no hope of so doing. There was one little girl, however, belonging to this latter class, who longed to go into the enchanted land as the Doll Show seemed to her-with such intensity that she prayed to God that He would take her there.

Her ideas concerning God were somewhat vague; but she was trustful.

Her name was Mollie Drew. She lived in the slums with he: widowed mother, who was extremely poor. Her father was dead.

Eliza Harris, a little cripple, who lived in the next room to the Drews, had told Mollie about the Doll Show. She had read about it in the New York Herald that was wrapped about something that had been sent to them.

“Oh, it's lovely at a Doll Show,” Eliza said to Mollie; “I went once, a long time ago, and--and, oh, it was lovely!"

Her eyes shone at the thought of the pleasure of by-gone days.

"Tell me about it,” begged Mollie, who had not the faintest idea of what a Doll Show was.

Eliza clapped her thin little hands.

“Oh, it was like fairy land! There were lots and lots of dolls—such beautiful ones-oh, my! They were queens, I guess, 'cause they were all dressed in silks and satins and laces; and their clothes all sparkled like as if they were covered with diamonds. I guess they were covered with diamonds. Oh, Mollie! I wish you could go to the Doll Show-I just wish you could.”

"I wish so, too, I do,” Mollie said, wistfully; “but don't you want to go, too, Eliza ?”

The light died out of the pale little face, and the child leaned back wearily against her chair. Mollie looked at her pityingly; then said, essaying to comfort:

"If I should go, Eliza, I'll tell you everything I saw-every single thing."

“That would be nice,” observed the little cripple, her face brightening

“I'd like to hear if this Doll Show is like mine. Wonder if the band'll play. Oh, my! such music as they had at my Doll Show.”

"Was it your show?" questioned Mollie, wonderingly.

"No," she said, “not really, you know; but I like to think it was my show, 'cause I was there. I wonder who got my doll.”

"Did you have a doll ?”
Eliza smiled faintly.

"There was a baby doll there," she said wistfully; "oh, I loved it so! Oh, Mollie, it was sweet—so sweet! It had such a cunning little face, and such lovely little rings of yellow hair. Oh, Mollie!"

Eliza began to cry softly; the tears running down her cheeks as if she were in great distress.

“What's the matter?" asked Mollie. “Do you feel worse? Shall I call your mother?" rising to do so.

“Oh, no," putting out her hands in protest; “don't call mamma, she has trouble enough now. I'm not worse—not a bit;” ani she wiped the tears away and smiled.

"Well, then, what made you cry?” persisted Mollie.

“Because I'm a baby, I guess. You see, I've wanted that doll ever since that time. I never had one in all my life—not that I know of.”

The tears came again, and rolled down her cheeks. Mollie was touched.

"I never had one either, that I can remember; but I declare if I ever should have one, I'd give it to you--so I would.”

Eliza reached over and grasped Mollie's hand.
"Would you really?" she asked, excitedly.

“Of course I would."
“Why?”
“Well, because I would."
“Why would you?"
"Becausebecause I can get about and-and-you.can't.”
It was Saturday morning. The Doll Show was open.

The band was playing at Sherry's. Troops of well-dressed children were hurrying along the walks to the "enchanted place.” Some came in carriages, with their mothers or nurses, or both. The music of childish voices and childish laughter rang out upon the breeze.

Presently, from out of a handsome carriage jumped a beautiful little girl. She was followed by a lady in mourning.

As they were about to enter the Doll Show, the beautiful little girl noticed another child. watching her wistfully. The face of the child was so eager and longing in its expression that it almost spoke. Hazel answered the look.

“Are you going to the Doll Show?” she asked.
"No," was the sorrowful answer.
“Why don't you go? You look as if you wanted to.”
"I do want to, but,”
She stopped-her face flushing.
Hazel took in the situation.

“She can go with us--can't she, mamma?” she questioned, looking to her mother, who answered in the same spirit that characterized the child:

“Yes, of course she can. Come, dear,” to Mollie, whose face became suddenly illumined.

It seemed to her as if she were entering Heaven, so great was her rapture.

“Hazel's mamma, looking at the little face, wished that some great artist could catch its expression. The band was playing beautiful music. Children were laughing and chatting, and even dancing over the polished Hoor, their white-aproned nurses watching them smilingly.

But, oh, the doll babies! Mollie was in a dream of bliss as she watched them. You can well imagine that to this little child of the slums, it appeared like Paradise.

Just before Hazel and her mamma and Mollie Drew left the Doll Show, there were two beautiful dolls purchased. They were baby dolls, with sweet faces, lovely blue eyes that opened and closed, and soft rings of golden hair. The baby dolls were dressed completely in beautiful lace-trimmed baby clothes. Mollie presented with one; Hazel with the other.

Mollie laughed and cried with joy when hers was put in her arms. Hazel's mamma took her home in the carriage, even going within the little barren room to see Mollie's mother.

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When Mrs. Drew and Mollie were alone, there came--suddenly—a sad look into the latter's face.

"Oh, mamma,” she cried out.

"What's the trouble, Mollie? Don't you like your beautiful doll?” the mother questioned in surprise.

"Oh, I love it-I just love it!" hugging it close in her arms; “that's what's the matter, I love it so I can't bear to give it up.”

“Give it up!” exclaimed Mrs. Drew, beginning to think the child was becoming wild with joy.

"I must give it up; I must give it to Eliza. I promised it.”

"How could you promise it to her? You just got it yourself.

"Well,you see, we were talking about dolls yesterday, and poor Eliza had always longed for one, and I said if I ever got one I'd give it to her; so that's what I'm going to do.” A mist crept over Mrs. Drew's

eyes.
“You've always longed for a doll, too,” she said.

“Yes, I know it; but I've promised; and besides, Eliza’s a cripple; so she needs it more than I do." It was given to her, and with it came the greatest joy of her

She laughed and cried in her delight; and then, with the baby doll held close, she folded her thin little hands and thanked God.

A few days later Hazel and her mamma called on the Drews. Hazel asked to see the baby doll, and was surprised to hear it was not there. She even looked hurt.

“Come, please," said Mollie, jumping up suddenly, “I'll show you where it is. I gave it away;

but it wasn't because I didn't love it. Please don't blame me.”

And do you suppose Hazel did blame her? Oh, no! but after she saw Eliza with the doll in her arms, she loved Mollie, and they had many, many good times together.—Selected. Memory Gem.

“Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven.”

poor life.

Build a little fence of trust

Around today;
Fill the space with loving work,

And therein stay;
Look not through the sheltering bars

Upon tomorrow,
God will help thee bear what comes
Of joy or sorrow.

- Mary Francis Butts.

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Jedediah M. Grant was only fourteen years old when he became a member of our Church. He never received much education, but was quainted with the scriptures that he could explain and preach the principles of the Gospel so clearly and forcibly that many

who heard him were converted, and if they were not converted they could not contradict him truthfully. He spent a great deal of his time in the mission field, and many interesting stories are told of his experiences. One of these incidents occurred in the Southern States, as fol

lows: "In the early part of E! der Grant's ministry in that country he gained quite a reputation as a ready speaker, frequently responding to invitations to preach from such subjects or texts as might be selected at the time of commencing his sermon by those inviting him. In time it became a matter of wonder with many as to how or when he prepared his sernions as other ministers did. He said, 'Of course I read and store my mind with a knowledge of Gospel truths, but I never study up-a sermon.' Well, they did not believe he told the truth, for they thought it was impossible for a man to preach such sermons without careful preparation. So in order to prove it, a number of persons decided to put him to test, and asked him if he would preach at a certain time and place from a text selected by them. They proposed to give him his text upon his arrival at the

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