ONE of the Life-Saving Stations on the California coast has been officially named the "Maggy Geddes." A little girl of that name in San Antonio, aged nine years, seeing a playmate fall into a mill-race, leaped in and with great skill and coolness, and after a desperate struggle, succeeded in swimming with her ashore.

Another little girl, a year younger, in one of our New England towns, sprang into the river a few weeks ago, and rescued her baby brother from drowning, carrying him in her arms through the swift current, which reached her chin.

Now it was a graceful act of recognition to real heroism for the Government to give the name of little Maggy Geddes to a Life-Saving Station, and it is right that these little heroines should be held up to other girls and boys as examples of unselfish devotion; always provided that the right lesson is drawn from their story.

Not many men, and very few children, ever have the chance to save another life at the risk of their own. Such supreme opportunities come but seldom. But every child should remember that just as much unselfishness, devotion, and cool presence of mind can be shown in the little incessant matters of every day as go to make up some one great heroic deed.

In God's eye it is not the size nor the dramatic effect of the action, which counts, but its motive.

Many a young girl patiently bearing for years the cares of a disorganized household, or the peevishness of an invalid parent, or brother or sister; many a boy, bringing indomitable cheerfulness and love to the help of his tired mother, is entitled to more admiration and respect, and is just as heroic, as if in a spasmodic passion of courage they had momentarily faced death for those they loved. 

Youth's Companion.


THERE was a boy in the city of Chicago who had attended Sabbath-school regularly for ten years, and who had a very good teacher. Finally, his teacher had to leave, and the next teacher was one of the indifferent kind. John thought there was a great contrast between the two teachers, and finally left. A few months later the superintendent met him and asked him why he did not come to school.

"Well," said John, " I am going over to the north side now."

"But that is farther," said the superintendent.

"Yes, it is farther; but then they seem to love a fellow over there."

That was what attracted him. What the Sabbath-school wants from superintendents and teachers is more love, and that love must be shown. "God so loved the world that he" talked? No. That he worked? No. That he gave. And we are to love till we can give, till we are ready to make sacrifices.