thunder rolled over our heads very loud; but, before we got home, the rainbow shone prettily across the sky.

I have been round the garden this afternoon; and when I was looking at the cucumber-bed, where there is a great number of young cucumbers, your sisters called me to sit on the seat under your plum-tree. And while I was sitting there I looked at your garden; and I felt sorry to see a very great many weeds, and some of them so large and old, that they must have been there a long time before you left home. I thought that I should not like my little boy's garden to be a picture of his mind. You know it is in the hymn about the sluggard where it says

"I passed by his garden, and saw the wild brier,

The thorn and the thistle, grow broader and higher."

I took up a great weed or two, and then I was able to see that a pea, which you put in the ground last autumn, had grown nicely, with six large pods of peas on it, which you may have boiled when you come home. And there are also sweet peas, and mignonette, and convolvulus, and other flowers which your father put there for you; but they are so entangled and covered with weeds, that it is neither easy nor pleasant to see them. I think you will not let it be so long, after your return home, will you?

Remember

that your garden was given to you on condition of your keeping it in nice order; and if -but I will not say any more about it

now.

Your dear sisters send their love to you, and so does your affectionate

CHAPTER X.

A LITTLE HISTORY.

THE same day that George received the letter from his mother, he was walking with his father and uncle, when they met a person who looked very hard at Mr. Hardy, and to whom uncle William said, "Good morning." When the man had passed them, Mr. Hardy asked his brother William who he was, for he thought he remembered his face.

"What!" said uncle William, "did you not know him, then?" and then he told Mr. Hardy the man's name.

All through the rest of their walk, George's father and uncle were talking of this man. George did not hear much that was said, for his mind was occupied with other matters. But after their return, Mr. Hardy took his little boy with him into the garden; and they both sat down on the pretty summer-seat. Then Mr. Hardy said

"My dear boy, I have something to say to you-and I wish you to remember what I am going to tell you. But, first of all, did you notice that man whom we met just now, while we were out?"

George. Yes, father.

Mr. Hardy. Well, can you tell me what kind of person he looked like ?

G. I thought he looked very poor; for his clothes were ragged, and his shoes were very old, and so was his hat.

Mr. H. Did you notice anything else?

G. Yes, father; he was not at all a cleanlooking man. His face was dirty, and so were his hands. He looked ill, too; at least, he was very thin and pale; but perhaps that was because he is so old.

Mr. H. So old! Why how much older than myself do you think he is?

G. Oh, a great deal older. Many years older, father.

Mr. H. Indeed you are mistaken. He is not so old as I am. But I will tell you a little of his history. When that man was a boy, like you, he was very well off. His parents lived in a fine large house, and had a great deal of money. But money, you know, will not do instead of everything. It will not do instead of religion, nor honesty, nor industry. This little boy was not an industrious boy. Instead of this he was a lazy sluggard. I do not know whether proper means were used at home to train him to good habits. I should fear not. But whether they were or not, he was a great trouble to his parents by his laziness. He did not like to get out of bed in the morning, nor to go to bed at night; dressing and undressing were quite too much trouble for him. He had a little garden given to him to cultivate;

but it was too much trouble to him to pull up the weeds, to dig the ground, to sow it, and rake it, and water it: so he never had any good crops in his garden, you may be sure. His parents wished him to learn to read; but learning to read was very troublesome: so it was a long time before he knew even his letters, and many tears it cost him to obtain even this knowledge. He liked play, when he could play in his own way; but he did not like the trouble of playing heartily, like other boys: he was lazy even in his play.

When he went to school it was just the same. He was always in disgrace with the master for not learning his lesson, and always

shunned by the boys, because he could not bear the trouble of doing anything to oblige them. When he grew to be a young man, he was