When David reached the street, the tears were tracing their way over his round, plump cheek, but soon a smile played around his mouth. Mrs. B---- took him into a toy-shop, and purchased for him a tin horse suspended in a wheel, which he could roll about the room. He selected this himself, and it was delightful to see with how much pleasure he looked at it, as he carried it in his hand. We concluded to make no more calls that day, but to take David directly to Mrs. B----'s. When his coat and cap were taken off, he began to roll the horse across the floor. Sometimes he would come and stand by my side, and examine it closely. I said to him-- "Have you ever been in the country?" "Oh, yes. I was there a month, when we buried mother." "Where were you?" "We were with Elek, grandma's son." "Why doesn't your grandmother live with him?" "He isn't kind to her." "Was his wife kind?" "No; she said she wouldn't live with him if grandma did." "What did you see in the country?" "I saw the fields, and the trees, and horses, and cows." "Did Elek have a cow?" "Yes; and she went away every day, and at night she came home, and they milked her." "Did you see any birds?" "I saw birds no bigger than that," said he, putting his hand over his horse so as to hide more than half of it, "and they sang all the time. And there were some chickens, that laid eggs, and then Elek's wife sold the eggs to the baker to pay for bread." "And had you apples or peaches?" "I used to throw small stones at the apples, and knock them off. The peaches I could reach with my hand. I had just as many as I wanted." The little orphan's month in the country had been a sunny spot in his memory, clouded only by the unkindness of Elek towards the grandmother he loved so much. How strange it is that children can ever forget how much they owe their parents! When the widow Cahoon was young, she had watched over his infancy. She had carried him in her arms, unmindful of her own weariness, and had done all for him that his helplessness required. But now she is old; her eyes are dim; her hearing is impaired; her hands are tremulous, and she is unable to provide for herself. Yet Elek's heart is hard. He has forgotten all her love, and will not even give her a home. He cannot prosper. I well remember, when a child, what a fearful impression a passage from the "words of Agur" made on my mind: "The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it." "Honour thy father and mother, (which is the first commandment with promise,") Paul writes to the Ephesian children, "that it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth." I should fear to hear Elek's future history. It must be dark and sorrowful. His poor old mother uttered a groan, when, as she was talking about David's mother, I asked if she had any other children. "He isn't kind to her," explained its meaning.