These six shillings, which did so much good, were paid him by the poor woman from the five dollars she had received from the store-keeper, and which the sailor had paid him. The poor woman’s daughter, also, was revived and ultimately restored to health; and was lately married to a young man who had been three years absent and returned _true to his troth_. But for the five dollars which had been so instrumental in her recovery, he might have returned to be told that she, whose memory had so long been the polar star of his heart, had perished. So much good did the five-dollar bill do which Peter Chancery, Esq. so reluctantly paid to Mr. Last’s apprentice boy, though little credit is due to this legal gentleman for the results that followed. It is thus that Providence often makes bad men instruments of good to others. Let this story lead those who think a “small bill” can stand because it is a small bill, remember how much good a five-dollar bill has done in one single day――and that in paying a _series_ of twenty bills, they may dispense good to hundreds around them. The Lark. A GERMAN ALLEGORY. In the balmy morning of a spring day, a farmer walked with his son into the field. The cool morning wind played with the silver locks of the old man, and lifted the blooming stems of the field, so that they appeared like a cloud over the waving grain. And the old man said, “Behold how active nature is for our good! With the same breath which cools our cheeks, she makes our fields fruitful, so that our barns are filled. “Eighty years have I witnessed this, and still it is as pleasing to me as though I saw it to-day for the first time. It may easily be the last! For have I not reached the limit of human life!” Thus the old man spake. Then the son pressed his hand and was grieved in his heart. But the father said, “Why do you mourn? Behold, my day is ended, and my evening has come. If a new morning is to break upon me, it must first be night. But it will appear to me like a night of summer, cool, and lovely, when the evening twilight melts into the twilight of morning.” “Oh my father,” said the son, “how can you speak so composedly of that, which will be to us the cause of severe affliction? You have given me an emblem of your death. Oh give me an emblem of your life, my father!” Then the old man replied, “That I can easily do. For the life of a farmer is simple, like nature, which surrounds him. See the lark yonder; do you observe how it arises out of the grain-field singing! It does not soar so near the farmer for nothing! For it is the emblem of his life.