Lucy's Victory.

"I'd like to go and play with Lizzie Warren,

tonight, mother," said Lucy, as she

came from school, with dinner basket and

satchel, and making so much noise that baby

Arthur awoke with a cry.

"No, dear, not to-night. Baby has not

been well to-day; so you must amuse him

while I am busy.''

"But, mother, do let me go; for the crane's

bill is in blossom; and Lizzie says we will go

through that nice orchard, all covered with

patches of innocence that look like a great

bouquet. And, mother, you know I've never

been in it; so do, please."

"No, Lucy, I cannot spare you; so try to

feel and look cheerful about it."

"But, mother," persisted Lucy, " if you

will let me go, I'll help you another time just

as much."

"Well, child, run along, then," said her

mother, quietly.

Lucy looked up eagerly a moment; then

she stood swinging her sun-bonnet by the

strings irresolutely. Only the day before her

mother had explained to her the meaning

of the passage, "Honor thy father and thy


That kind and unseen friend, called conscience,

that our Heavenly Father has placed

in each of our hearts, was trying to remind

Lucy of her duty; so, at length, she said,


"Would it be honoring you, mother, if I


"No; it would not be honoring me, unless

you obeyed quickly and cheerfully."

"Well, then, I won't tease anymore, but

take Arthur out on the lawn, where he can see

the lambs frisk about; and that will be nicer

than going when you think it isn't best."

So, she hung up her satchel and put away

her basket, and, in trying to divert her little

brother, she became happy herself, as people

always do when they give up their own

wishes to please and assist others.

Then, when bedtime came, her mother's

good-night kiss, with "You have honored me,

and listened to the voice of conscience,

Lucy," were of greater worth than any pleasure

she could have derived from doing what

she was sure her mother disapproved.

Child At Home