The sage struck the attitude he was wont to assume when in the act of imparting wisdom and said-- "My child, listen!" "I am listening!" breathlessly she answered. "Well, my child," he rejoined, "that is all there is in the art of conversation." HOW TO BE FREE FROM DISCONTENT. A philosopher offered sacrifice every day in the temple of Jupiter and made always the same prayer. At last Jupiter grew tired of hearing over and over again the one request and said, "What would you have?" "I crave to become a contented man," replied the philosopher. "Never yet have I enjoyed a really peaceful day, for I have never been entirely contented. Even now, aged as I am, there is always something that I long for." "Consider well what you ask," said the god sternly; "there is but one way in which you can secure the boon you seek." "And what is that?" asked the philosopher eagerly. "I must strike you dead; for in death only can man be free from discontent." "Upon consideration," replied the philosopher, "I think I should be better contented to remain discontented." And so saying he put on his hat and hastily withdrew from the temple. DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. "Trust yourself to God who calls you, Then no harm can e'er befall you; Don't be discouraged. Do the right, And day will chase away your night." HOW SHE SHOWED HER GRATITUDE. The present Bishop of Gibraltar, Dr. Sandford, tells the following story. When a young man, and a shy, very shy curate, he called to see an old woman among his parishioners, who complained to him that all she had to live on was half-a-crown a week which she received from the parish. "And out of that, sir," she went on, "I have to pay two shillings for rent, a shilling for firing, sixpence for bread, fourpence for----" "Stop, stop, my good woman," said the young curate, "you can't pay all that out of half-a-crown." "Yes, sir, but I do," she persisted, "I pay----" and she ran through her accounts again. Finding she was not to be convinced of her arithmetical errors, and that she was both poverty-stricken and deserving, Mr. Sandford promised to send her an extra half-crown on his own account each week. "For this she rewarded me," says the bishop, "by coming much more regularly to church, but to my horror she never caught my eye while I was in the reading desk or pulpit without promptly jumping up and bobbing me a little curtsey to show her gratitude. Imagine my feelings as a shy young curate."