WILLIE was a bright, lively boy six years of age. His mother was reading to him one Sabbath afternoon about the Lamb's book of life, which St. John tells us of in the Revelation. Mamma told him that the Lamb is Jesus Christ, and that he keeps the names of all who give their hearts to him, so that on the Judgment-day, when the books are opened, not one of those who love Jesus will find his name forgotten. 

"Mamma," said Willie, "how do people get their names put in the life-book?"

"By asking Jesus to write them there," was the reply. Then mamma said, "Willie, is your name in the Lamb's book of life?" 

Willie's eyes grew very earnest as he said, "No, mamma; but 't will be tonight."

Willie was sometimes a thoughtless little boy, and his mother feared he would soon forget his Sabbath lesson; but at night, when he knelt with his little brothers by the bedside, the first words of Willie's prayer were," O Jesus, won't you please to put my name into your life-book?"

Do you not think Jesus loved to hear this prayer? And "when the dead, small and great, stand before God, and the books are opened," shall we not be sure to find Willie's name? I hope he tries every day to live as a child should whose name Jesus is keeping with such tender love.

Dear children, if your names are not written in the book of life, remember that the Bible says that "whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire."

Go now, like Willie, and ask the Saviour to make you his children. 

We know he is gathering child-names for the precious book, for he says, "Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me; for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." 

Young Reaper.


ALMOST all the "marbles" with which boys everywhere amuse themselves, in season and out of season, on sidewalks and in shady spots, are made at Oberstein, Germany. There are large agate quarries and mills in that neighborhood, and the refuse is turned to good account in providing the small stone balls for experts to "knuckle" 

with. The stone is broken into small cubes, by blows of a light hammer. These small blocks of stone are thrown by the shovel-ful into the hopper of a small mill, formed of a bed-stone, having its surface grooved with concentrate furrows; above this is the "runner," which is of some hard wood, having a level face on its lower surface. The upper block is made to revolve rapidly, water being delivered upon the grooves of the bed-stone where the marbles are being rounded. It takes about fifteen minutes to finish a half bushel of good marbles ready for the boys' knuckles. One mill will turn out 160,000 marbles per week. 

The very hardest "crackers," as the boys call them, are made by a slower process, somewhat similar, however, to the other.