I have omitted one matter, and that is, Bessie's mother was my sister; and the thought came with power into my mind, while I stood at the grave, that while the Lord blessed me with ability and strength, we could share our bread with Bess sooner than see her want. Father and mother may die, and they must die, but there is One that cannot alter and that cannot fail. I trust our young friends who read these few lines are interested in our little maid; and if any are living in St. Leonards or Hastings, they may sometimes see a thin, pale girl of twelve years, small for her age, with dark hair, cut short, sharp nose, and keen grey eyes. This is Orphan Bess. Not without friends now, for the Lord has already raised up kind friends and strong arms to help her, and made room for her in many hearts. May the Lord show her further favour by granting her His grace is our sincere prayer, comfort her on earth "as a mother comforteth her children," and be her everlasting Portion in heaven. Gleaners, you that have fathers and mothers, remember they are your best earthly friends, and think of desolate Bess. Gleaners that are orphans, remember "the Lord liveth," and that He careth for you. J. D. "MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB." The well-known verses beginning, "Mary had a little lamb," were founded on actual circumstances, and the heroine, Mary, is still living. About seventy years ago she was a little girl, the daughter of a farmer in Worcester County, Massachusetts, United States. One spring, the farmer brought a feeble lamb into the house, and Mary adopted it as her especial pet. It became so fond of her that it would follow her everywhere. One day, it followed her to the village school, and, not knowing what else to do with it, she put it under her desk and covered it with her shawl. There it stayed until Mary was called up to the teacher's desk to say her lesson, and then the lamb walked quietly after her, and the other children burst out laughing, so the teacher had to shut up the little girl's pet in the wood-shed until school was over. Soon after this, a young student, named John Rollstone, wrote a little rhyme about Mary and her lamb, and presented it to her. The lamb grew to be a sheep, and lived for many years, and when at last it died, Mary grieved so much for it that her mother took some of its wool, which was "as white as snow," and knitted a pair of stockings for her to wear in remembrance of her darling. Some years after the lamb's death, Mrs. Sarah Hall, a celebrated woman, who wrote many books, composed some verses about Mary's lamb, and added them to those written by John Rollstone, making the complete rhyme as we know it.