But I have seen other gardens where there were scarcely any weeds. The
walks look tidy, the flowers in blossom, the trees are laden with fruit,
and every thing says, "How busy the owner is." Happy are you, dear
children, if you are working earnestly in the garden of your hearts.
Your garden will be clean, pleasant, and fruitful--a credit and comfort
to you all your days.




REMEMBER THE CAKE.


I will tell you an anecdote about Mrs. Hannah More, when she was eighty
years old. A widow and her little son paid a visit to Mrs. More, at
Barley Wood. When they were about to leave, Mrs. M. stooped to kiss the
little boy, not as a mere compliment, as old maidens usually kiss
children, but she took his smiling face between her two hands, and
looked upon it a moment as a mother would, then kissed it fondly more
than once. "Now when you are a man, my child, will you remember me?" The
little boy had just been eating some cake which she gave him, and he,
instead of giving her any answer, glanced his eyes on the remnants of
the cake which lay on the table. "Well," said Mrs. M., "you will
remember the cake at Barley Wood, wont you?" "Yes," said the boy, "It
was nice cake, and you are _so kind_ that I will remember both." "That
is right," she replied, "I like to have the young remember me for _being
kind_--then you will remember old Mrs. Hannah More?"

"Always, ma'am, I'll try to remember you always." "What a good child,"
said she, after his mother was gone, "and of good stock; that child will