Burn on, thou humble candle, burn within thy hut of grass,
Though few may be the pilgrim feet that through Ilala pass;
God's hand hath lit thee, long to shine, and shed thy holy light
Till the new day-dawn pour its beams o'er Afric's long midnight.
--_Arthur T. Pierson, in "The Miracles of Missions," second series.
SPARE MOMENTS
A lean, awkward boy came to the door of the principal of a celebrated
school one morning, and asked to see him. The servant eyed his mean
clothes, and thinking he looked more like a beggar than anything else, told
him to go around to the kitchen. The boy did as he was bidden, and soon
appeared at the back door.
"I should like to see Mr. Slade," said he.
"You want a breakfast, more like," said the servant girl, "and I can give
you that without troubling him."
"Thank you," said the boy; "I should like to see Mr. Slade, if he can see
me."
"Some old clothes maybe you want," remarked the servant again, eying the
boy's patched clothes. "I guess he has none to spare; he gives away a
sight." And, without minding the boy's request, she went about her work.
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