one, and would furnish a livelihood. There were times when, looking
into the intelligent blue eyes that would be lifted up so lovingly to
meet his gaze, he would wish that he might be able to educate his boy;
but almost at once he would conquer the longing, and say to himself:
"It is God who appoints to every man his station, and I must not
murmur because my child's lot is destined to be a lowly one. There is
danger in high places, and I ought rather to rejoice that our poverty
removes him far from the temptation he would meet with in a more
exalted station."

One evening, it was a dull and cloudy one near the close of December,
George Raymond came home seeming more than ordinarily cheerful,
greatly to the delight of his good Margaret, who did not like to see
him too thoughtful. "Times seem to grow better, wife," he said, after
he finished his supper; "I have had plenty of work at seal engraving
this last fortnight; it seems my work has been approved in the city."

"We have always had enough for the supply of our daily wants,"
answered Margaret; "and we are told not to be too anxious about the
goods of this world."

"I am not very anxious," said Raymond; "at least not on my own
account; but sometimes I think if I should be called away, what would
become of you, Gretta, and little Will?"

"The Lord would provide for us, George, as he has ever done," was the
wife's reply; "he is ever faithful to his promise, and he has declared
that those who wait on him shall not want for any good thing."

"That is very true, Margaret; but we must use lawful means to provide