“The Polish Prince.” Here is a story of a Polish prince who had a very good father. This young man was in the habit of carrying the picture of his father in his bosom. And when he was tempted to do anything that was wrong, he would take out this picture and look at it, saying, “Let me do nothing that would grieve my good father.” “Ashamed to Tell Mother.” Some boys were playing one day after school. Among them was a little fellow whom his companions were trying to tempt to do something wrong. “I can’t do it,” said he, “because I should be ashamed to tell mother of it.” “Well, but you needn’t tell her; and she won’t know anything about it.” “But I should know all about it myself, and I’d feel mighty mean if I wouldn’t tell mother!” The boys laughed at him and said: “The idea of a boy running and telling his mother every little thing! What a pity you weren’t a girl!” “You may laugh about it as much as you please,” said the noble little fellow, “but I’ve made up my mind never, as long as I live, to do anything I would be ashamed to tell my mother.” That boy was a hero. He was doing just what Jesus would have done in his place. Many a boy would have been saved from ruin if he had only acted in this way. “Honoring His Mother.” “Is there a vacant place in this bank, which I could fill?” asked a boy with a glowing face, as he stood, with cap in hand, before the president of the bank. “There is none,” was the reply. “Were you told that we wanted a boy? Who recommended you?” “No one recommended me, sir,” calmly said the boy. “I only thought I would see.” There was an honesty and manliness about the lad which pleased the president and led him to continue the conversation. “You must have friends who could help you in getting a situation; have you told them?” With a saddened feeling, the boy said: “My mother told me it would be useless to try without friends,” then apologizing for the interruption, he turned to go away; but the gentleman detained him, saying: “Why don’t you stay at school a year or two longer, my young friend, and then try to get a situation?” “I have no time for school,” was his reply. “I study at home, and keep up with the other boys as well as I can.” “Then you have had a place already,” said the officer, “why did you leave it?” “I have not left it, sir,” quietly answered the boy. “But you wish to leave it. What is the matter?” The boy was confounded for a moment—but presently said—“I want to do more for mother, sir.” These brave words of the boy touched the gentleman’s heart. And grasping the hand of the little fellow he said:—“My boy, what is your name? and where do you live? You shall have the first vacancy, for a boy, that occurs in the bank. And in the meantime if you need a friend, come to me. But now tell me frankly, why do you wish to do more for your mother? Have you no father?” The boy’s eyes filled with tears. He had to make an effort before he could speak. But recovering himself directly he said: