"Yes; but'tisn't 'cause people are bad off, so much as 'cause they don't know how to spend what they get properly. Many a one gets more than I do, but haven't got a penny to bless themselves with by Wednesdays or Thursdays."

"What do they do with their money?"

"Do? "Tis easy to say what they do with it-treating everybody at the publichouse on Saturday nights, a little bit o' gambling, and often a precious blow-out Sundays and Mondays. Then there's lots. as don't work above half a week, so don't get so much by half as they might. Often those that earn the most seem the worst off. Every pint of ale some of them drink costs sixpence, 'cause of the time that is lost."

"Then in your opinion there is not so much real poverty?"

"I believe a very little collected among the working classes would relieve all the real poor, such as labourers sometimes out of work, widows and orphans, and such like, without that great place at the corner (the workhouse); and there needn't be no poor rates if everybody was sober and industrious. From what I know of what men 'll do for one another, I'm sure they could do all that is necessary for one another, if they'd only choose to try. I've tried both ways of living, and I know all about it." "What do you mean by both ways of living?"

66

Well, you see, me and my brother were brought up reg'lar bad. Father was a good workman, and I've known him earn four pound of a sober week, but he never gave us any learning worth speaking of; and our house wasn't fit for any body to come into. He spent so much money, and idled away his time so, that sometimes mother hadn't the value of a loaf of bread, nor enough to buy a Sunday's dinner; so she

when I was nine, father took me to help him at the works. He might have rode in his carriage almost if he'd only been a sober man. I soon left home after I was fourteen, and got lodgings, and went on bad enough for years. I lost time every week, and didn't care for nothing till I was about twenty, when I kept company with the young woman that is my wife. She says 'I'll never get married till you are steadier, and begin to save a bit.' She could read and write. I could hardly read: so says she, 'Why don't you learn to read? A man isn't anything that can't read, let alone writing.' So I went to school, and that was the means of my being steadier; and now I don't want for nothing. I put by five shillings a week, and don't miss it. Some of my old acquaintance call me a dull, slow sort of customer; but I know how to enjoy myself. I've got my garden; that's always a pleasure; and last Summer me and my wife and the children went to Warwick and Leamington; we saw all over Warwick Castle, and never enjoyed anything more in our lives. It costs a smart bit of money to go out with three or four children; but not much more than I've often spent on myself in a week's spree. Then I had a week myself at the Isle of Man; and this year, I mean going to Wales. Then you see we don't want for nothing here at home, and things go comfortable-like with us."

This simple tale, repeated in the words in which it was told, is a striking example of the two ways of living. It illustrates, too, one of the now habitual recreations of the people, who are learning thoroughly to appreciate the pleasure of railway trips, and holidays in picturesque places. Happily there are many who, if questioned, could tell a similar tale. May this number be multiplied!

We hope every reader of Home Words is

66

GOD, our Refuge and our Strength, we turn to Thee as a very present help in this hour of sorrow and distress. We cry unto Thee, O God, now that we are overwhelmed by the great water-floods. Cast us not away because of our former iniquities, but receive us graciously for Christ's sake. According to Thy mercy remember Thou us for Thy goodness' sake, O Lord.

O merciful God, Thou dost not willingly afflict nor grieve the children of men. In tender love Thou dost smite us with Thy chastening rod. It is Thy hand, O God, which has cast us down. We would humble ourselves before Thee, and acknowledge that Thou art just and righteous in all Thy ways. Thou dost give and Thou dost take away. Thou dost wound and Thou dost heal. Thou bringest down to the grave and bringest up. In the midst of all we would say, Blessed be the Name of the Lord. Shall we receive good at Thy hands and not receive evil also ? O Lord, give us meek submission to Thy will, and help us to glorify Thee in the fires, by our patience under all Thy chastise

Redeemer. O Lord Jesus, Thou knowest our sorrows, and in all our afflictions Thou art afflicted. Thy tender sympathy is our consolation and hope. Help us to remember that Thou didst weep with the sisters at Bethany, and that Thou art the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever. In every sorrow, whatever be its cause, Thou art near to bind up the broken, bleeding heart.

O Lord, pour into our hearts the grace of Thy Spirit, that every doubtful thought may be cast aside, and that we may hide our weary, trembling spirits, beneath the covert of Thy wing. Be Thou our Stronghold, our Refuge, our Hiding-Place. Let Thine hand supply our every need, and Thine ear be open to each sigh and groan of Thine afflicted

ones.

Once more do we cast ourselves at Thy feet, O loving and pitiful Father. We believe Thou carest for us, and wilt make all things work together for good to them that love Thee. O increase our faith and trustful reliance on Thy promises. Do Thou make the storm to be a calm, that the waves thereof may be still. Bid all our sorrows cease in Thine own good time, and may this light affliction, which is but for a moment, work for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. We ask all, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.

T seems very strange that two such different people should have come together."

"They are, indeed, a great contrast; but contrast in married couples is not un

numbers make an even sum, and two discords in music make a concord, the same law may apply in married life."

These observations were made in reference to a Mr. and Mrs. Blent, who certainly in looks and manner were a very startling

are.

In the first place, I must say Mr. Blent was better than his looks, as people often No lesson that we learn in social life is more valuable than that which teaches us not to form unkind judgments from mere personal peculiarities. The hard nut has often a sweet kernel.

But I am free to confess the world would most likely have gone hard with George Blent but for his wife's influence. She was not a clever woman. I do not think she could have established a shop, or learned a trade, and I am certain in these days she could not have kept a school. Nor had she the force of character and calculating faculty possessed by Mrs. Pleck.* Earning or saving on any very persistent plan was not her practice. And yet she was in a very true sense a Home Maker.

From her childhood she had manifested a sweet unselfish temper. She had been an orphan from her earliest years, and a pious maiden aunt had brought her up. Though but a poor illiterate woman, she had taught her niece two most important principlesto love godliness and cleanliness. And the girl Susie had learned both. God's blessing came on right endeavour, and a sweeter maiden in spirit, voice, and habits, could not be.

Her aunt died just at the time that she first knew George Blent, who was in the employ of an auctioneer and house agent. He had not been well reared; for a drink

ing father made the home a desolation, out of which the children escaped as soon as they could. This joyless childhood left its impress on George. He had been taken first as errand or office boy at the house agent's, and was tolerated rather than liked; for though he was strong and trustworthy, he was also, as they said, surly. He went to a night school and became a fair penman and accountant; and in spite of his ungainly way, in the course of years he made himself of so much use to his employer that he could not well have been dispensed with in the office.

When Susie's aunt was ill this silent stern-looking young man, who lodged in the house, was ever ready with unobtrusive but constant attention; and his sympathy through the long affliction which preceded her death touched the heart of the poor friendless girl. Moreover, gratitude made Susie take George's part when she heard him called sullen and dull. She became his ally and advocate before she ever thought of being his wife; and it certainly took most of the gossips by surprise when they married.

"She has thrown herself away," said many. But George Blent knew her value, and therefore she was not thrown away. He was tender to her, but as rough as ever to others.

For some time after they married his wages were very small. A clerk often earns far less than a skilled mechanic, and Blent's manners being so abrupt his master said that he could not raise his salary. "You'll never let my houses for me; you've no address; people take a dislike to you; so you must keep at the desk and the catalogue-making."

But for a circumstance which occurred about this time, I do not know how the Blents would have contrived to continue to make both ends meet; for though they had but two children, one was a great invalid,