Smiles are not always the reply of the heart. We have seen men smile whoso whole life was a scene of misfortune, and yet this emblem of happiness has lit their features. It is outward show--a fruit, whose surface presents a tempting appearance to the eye, but which is blasted and withered within. Smiles are often like the fruit called the _Guava_. It is a beautiful looking fruit which grows in the West Indies, and to the taste is very luscious, but when examined through a microscope, it presents the appearance of a moving mass of worms. Its beauty is deceptive, nothing but a wretched view presents itself, "Like dead sea fruit, that tempts the eye, And falls to ashes on the lips." The child saw her mother smile, and the little heart forgot its hunger, and for a moment beat with joy. The gleam of sunshine that spread itself over him, did not last, for soon after the face of the mother assumed the same sad and cheerless expression, it had worn for many weeks. The child saw it, and again felt his hunger. "Mother," she said, "give me a piece of bread." "I will get some for you to-morrow," she replied. "There is no bread in the house this evening." "I am _so_ hungry," remarked the child. "Why is there no bread?" "Mother has got no money to buy any," she replied. The other child had remained quiet all the while. She still nestled to her mother's side and looked long and earnestly into her face. She was not thinking, for one of her years knew nothing of thought, but divined that all was not right with her mother. "Eva, my child," the mother said, speaking to her for the first time, "go to the grocer's, and ask him if he will let me have a loaf of bread on credit." "I am so glad you have sent for bread," exclaimed the infant on her knees, as he clapped his hand joyfully together. Eva left the room, and in a few minutes returned empty handed. "Has he refused to let you have it?" asked Mrs. Wentworth. "Yes, mother," replied the child sadly. "He says he will not give credit to anybody." "I thought as much," Mrs. Wentworth remarked. "Then I won't get any bread?" asked the child on her knees. "No, my darling," Mrs. Wentworth answered, "you must wait until to-morrow." "I hav'nt eaten so long, mother," he said. "Why aint you got any bread?" "Because mother is poor and without any money," she replied. "But I feel so hungry," again the child remarked. "I know it, my sweet boy," replied his mother, "but wait a little longer and I will give you something to eat."