"HENRY BRUNTON."

George's eyes sparkled with delight as he read the letter; and found the
enclosure to be a cheque for five pounds. This was a great treasure and
relief to him, for he had thought many times about his boots, which were
down at heel, and his best coat, which shone a good deal about the
elbows, and showed symptoms of decay in the neighbourhood of the
button-holes.

A new suit of clothes and a pair of boots were therefore purchased at
once, and when Sunday morning came, and George dressed himself in them,
and stood ready to accompany his mother to the house of God, she thought
(although, of course, she did not say so) that she had never seen a more
handsome and gentlemanly-looking youth than her son.

"Mother," said George, as they walked along, "what a treat the Sunday
will always be now, after being pent up in the office all the week. I
shall look forward to it with such pleasure, not only for the sake of
its rest, but because I shall have a whole day with you."

"The Sabbath is, indeed, a boon," replied Mrs. Weston, "when it is made
a rest-day for the soul, as well as for the body. You remember those
lines I taught you, when you were quite another fellow, before you went
to school, do you not?--

"'A Sunday well spent brings a week of content
And health for the toils of the morrow;
But a Sabbath profaned, whatsoe'er may be gained,
Is a certain forerunner of sorrow.'"