"I don't rightly know. They were unloading a vessel at the wharf and some way Jerry slipped and a heavy cask rolled over him. The doctor says he can't live." [Illustration: OUT IN JERRY'S BOAT.] When they reached the place where Jerry was slowly breathing his life away, some one said--"Jerry, Jerry, here is Miss Manton!" Jerry opened his eyes and said faintly, "Sing that!" And there, surrounded by a group of rough, though kindly men, Edith sang: Light in the darkness, sailor, day is at hand, See o'er the foaming billows, fair haven's land, Drear was the voyage, sailor, now almost o'er, Safe within the life-boat, sailor, _pull for the shore_. As she paused Jerry's lips moved, and bending low to hear, Edith caught the whisper: "I did it! I took the oars; I pulled for the shore. I guess I'll make the harbor!" A few more labored breaths and Jerry had, as we trust, "made the harbor." "What if I had not used that last opportunity?" said Edith to herself as she walked back to her cottage. FAYE HUNTINGTON. SIX O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING. OUR GOD WHOM WE SERVE IS ABLE TO DELIVER US FROM THE BURNING FIERY FURNACE. THOU ART WEIGHED IN THE BALANCES AND FOUND WANTING. THEY PRAISED THE LORD, BECAUSE THE FOUNDATION OF THE HOUSE OF THE LORD WAS LAID. GIVE US HELP FROM TROUBLE: FOR VAIN IS THE HELP OF MAN. GRANDMA BURTON studied the verses in silence for a few minutes. "They are all good," she said at last; "I know a story about each of them; I've been trying to decide which to tell." "It's the little chick's turn," Rollo said, good-naturedly, so the "little chick" had it, and the first verse on the paper was taken. "Yes," said Grandma, "I knew the boy very well indeed who believed that, and lived by it; and he got his help too in the way that he least expected; just as help is apt to come. He was a little fellow when I was quite a young woman. We visited, my brother and I, at a house which was only across the street from a famous boarding-school for boys. There was one little fellow in that school whom I used to watch, because he looked like my little brother at home; he seemed very small to be in boarding-school. I wondered if he was homesick, and sometimes cried himself to sleep as my brother did the first time he went to uncle Daniel's alone on a visit. [Illustration: AUNT HARRIET PEABODY.] "Miss Harriet Peabody was the mistress of this house where I visited; she was a maiden lady, the aunt of the boy and girl who were our friends; a good kind woman, but a little prim in her ways. I remember she never dressed quite in the fashion; her clothes were very nice, and beautifully made, and cost a trifle more, if anything, than those of her neighbors, but they were always made a little behind the styles, as though she thought things which were a little out of fashion were less wicked, some way, than others.