. The North Carolina Presbyterian. s rolling down hischeeks. O sir, said he to the minister,I never had anything come with suchpower to my soul before, as this languageot my dying boy, * Papa, dear papa, if youplease, oon t swear any more. Sir, it wasolessed to my soul. The next dfay that man was seated at thetable of the Lord; and may we not supposethat when he cornea to die, his cherub boywill hover over his dying bed, and be thefirst to welcome h is happy spirit home toglory and to God ? then an invisible hand appeared to offerme a bowl, for which I would have givenyears of my life ; but wh
. The North Carolina Presbyterian. s rolling down hischeeks. O sir, said he to the minister,I never had anything come with suchpower to my soul before, as this languageot my dying boy, * Papa, dear papa, if youplease, oon t swear any more. Sir, it wasolessed to my soul. The next dfay that man was seated at thetable of the Lord; and may we not supposethat when he cornea to die, his cherub boywill hover over his dying bed, and be thefirst to welcome h is happy spirit home toglory and to God ? then an invisible hand appeared to offerme a bowl, for which I would have givenyears of my life ; but what a dreary con-trast, I opened my eves to a heat-reekingf)lain, and a sky of that deep blue «> love-y to painter and poet, so death-like to us,whose only desire was tempest and rain-storm. I tried to talk ; it was in vain. Itried to think ; but I had only one idea—water—water—water! So should we thirstfor the water of life. And Jesus stood andcried, saying, If any man thirst, let himcome unto me and drink. John vii. <n ?»»< TXB WORTH OFAJplIHK OF WATER. Poi four-and-tijrenty honrs,says , an African traveler, we did nottaate water; the sun p4rehed our brains, andthe mirage mocked us at every turn. As Ijogged along with e jee shut against the fineryair, every image that came to my mind wasof watar-tr-water, Iving deep in the shadywell; ilrater bubbling from the rock; waterin clear l^dces, inviti-ng me to plunge andbathe, ^ow a oloucl seemed to shower up-on ma /dropa moire precious than pearls ; THE TAIL OF A TADFOLU A blade of grass is a world of mystery, would men observingly distill it outWhen my erudite friend, Geronds, glanc-ing round my work-room, arrested his con-temptuous eye on a vase aoouuding in tad-poles, and asked me, with a sniffing supe-riority : Do you really mean to say you find anyinterest in those little beasts ? I energetically answered : As much as yon find in Elzevirs. Bm I grunted Gerunds. **Tih7 absurd, isnt it I But we have
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