I need not go on to tell you how he, not long after, broke a second resolution, and so on, till, ere many months, he had become really a swearing young man.

It all sprang from the first sinful act; and when at last he did break himself of the habit, it was not done without a serious struggle.

I have told you this story, my young readers, because I thought it might be, not only interesting to you, but because I hoped it might be the means of leading you to reflect upon the uselessness and wickedness of PROFANITY; and that it might aid in impressing on your minds the importance of governing your passions and keeping your tongues free from evil speaking.

I see my friend, about whom I have written, quite often.  He is now a parent, and occupies an eminent position in the community; but he often thinks of his former life, and says he has not yet ceased to lament his FIRST OATH.  Let this fact, then, teach you how a recollection of the sins of boyhood, even though you may call them little sins, will be cherished through life, and poison many moments that would otherwise be happy ones.  How important that childhood be pure and righteous in the sight of God, and to our own consciences, in order to insure a happy manhood and old age!

[Illustration]

THE FAIRY’S GIFT.

BY REV.  J. WESLEY HANSON.

   It was a quiet summer’s day,
     The breeze blew cool and fair,
   And blest ten thousand happy things
     Of land, and sea, and air,
   And played a thousand merry pranks
     With MARY’S golden hair.

   MARY was not a happy girl;
     Her face was sad and sour,
   And on her little pretty brow
     Dark frowns did often lower,—­
   And she would scold, and fret, and cry,
     Full fifty times an hour.

   She sat and wept with grief and pain,
     And did not smile at all,—­
   And when her friends and mates came near
     She shunned them, great and small,—­
   And then upon the Fairy Queen
     She earnestly did call.

   “Oh, hither, hither, good Fairy,
     I pray thee come to me! 
   And point me out the Path of Peace,
     That I may happy be,
   For I cannot, in all the world,
     A moment’s pleasure see!

   “I try my work, my play I try,
     My little playmates, too;
   Help me to find true happiness,
     I sadly, humbly sue;—­
   Oh! my lot is a darksome one,—­
     Fairy! what shall I do?”

   A humble-bee comes riding by,
     No bigger than my thumb,
   And on his browny, gold-striped back,
     Behold the Fairy come! 
   One look upon her loveliness
     Makes little MARY dumb.

   She wore a veil of gossamer,
     Her tunic was of blue,
   A golden sunbeam was her belt,
     And bonnet of crimson hue,
   And through the net of her purple shawl
     Clear silver stars looked through.