whether it would do not to invite the stranger to take supper. It was
true they had given him as much bread and bacon as he could eat, but
then, as long as he was going to stay all night, it looked too
inhospitable to sit down to the table and not ask him to join them.
So, making a virtue of necessity, he was kindly asked to come to
supper--an invitation which he did not decline. Grace was said over
the meal by Mr. W., and the coffee poured, and the bread helped, and
the meat carved.

There was a fine little boy, six years old, at the table, who had been
brightened up and dressed in his best, in order to grace the
minister's reception. Charles was full of talk, and the parents felt a
mutual pride in showing him off, even before their humble guest, who
noticed him particularly, though he had not much to say. "Come,
Charley," said Mr. W., after the meal was over, and he sat leaning in
his chair, "can't you repeat the pretty hymn mamma taught you last
Sabbath?"

Charley started off without any further invitation, and repeated very
accurately two or three verses of a camp-meeting hymn, that was then
popular.

"Now let us hear you say the commandments, Charley," spoke up the
mother, well pleased with her son's performance.

And Charley repeated them with a little prompting.

"How many commandments are there?" asked the father.

The child hesitated, and then looking at the stranger, near whom he