departure, would see them laid in the grave--and busy tradesmen, with
faces strongly marked by care, or avarice, or anxiety, jostled by them;
ladies too, in gay hats and large rich shawls, or the more
comfort-seeking in cloaks and muffs; and poor women, with their tattered
clothing drawn closely around their shrinking forms, were hurrying
forward apparently with the same intent. Every variety of the human
species seemed crowded on those narrow pavements.

Harry and Effie were only a few rods from Mr T.'s door, when Mr Maurice
overtook them, on his way to some other part of the city. He smiled, as
he always did, on his children, then putting a few pence into Effie's
hand, whispered something about '_temptation money_,' and passed on.

'I shan't be tempted, though,' said the child, holding the coin before
her brother's eyes.

'No, Effie,' replied the boy, 'it isn't wrong to spend this money for
yourself, so you can't be tempted to do wrong with it. This is every
body's day for pleasure, and you ought to enjoy it.'

'I have enjoyed it,' said Effie, looking upon her brother smilingly,
'and I guess somebody else has helped me.'

'I guess so, too,' was the reply, 'I think we have been a great deal
happier than if we had come here in the morning.'

Children though they were, they were demonstrating the words of the Lord
Jesus, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'

Mr T.'s shop was crowded to overflowing with children, a few grown