Annie slowly repeated the words, "'Benjamin shall ravin as a wolf; in the morning he shall devour the prey, and at night he shall divide the spoil.'" "Quite right; now for the story." The whole of the party drew nearer to the fire, another log was cast upon the blazing pile, the children were all attention, and just as there was a temporary lull in the storm without, the old man began:— "Once upon a time there was a poor widow named Margaret. She lived in a straw-thatched cabin, and a little field, a cow, and a grape vine, were all she was worth in the world. She had one son, and his name was George; he was a promising lad, the comfort and consolation of his mother, as well as her proudest hope. For him she labored from early morn to dewy eve; her spinning wheel was always at work, and with that and the returns of her little field, she was able to buy flour, and thus to use some of her milk and butter. "In spring and summer time the good woman would direct the attention of her son to the up-springing flowers, and tell him how God cared for them all, and much more for people who called upon his name, and would impress upon him how thankful we ought to be for all that Heaven bestows, and to learn in whatsoever state we are, therewith to be content. "So George grew up to be a fine, strong lad, and had what was still better than ruddy cheeks and stalwart arms, a good disposition and a pious heart. He was his mother's joy, her household treasure, and it was a comfort for her to think that he would one day be as good a laborer as his father. She was not ambitious, and she thought hard work rather honorable than otherwise. "Well, she had formerly been at service with a farmer who lived about six miles from the cottage, and when the farmer's son succeeded to the property, she asked him to have George as a servant boy. The farmer very willingly consented, and the mother set about equipping George for his new employment. "And here, my dear children, let me say a few words about work. It is a good and noble thing to work. Nothing puts more honor upon work than that saying of our Lord Jesus Christ, 'My father worketh hitherto and I work.' God meant us to work. He put Adam in the Garden of Eden to dress it and to keep it; labor did not altogether come in with the curse." "But grandpa," said Henry, "would it not be better if there was no work to be done; if all our lives could be spent without toil?" "No." "Really grandpa, I think it would, I do indeed." "Why so, dear Henry? Speak frankly, let me know your reason." "A great many people are over-worked, grandpa, and if there were no necessity for labor, there could be no cause for this, and so one source of evil would be done away. That is what makes me think the world would be happier without work."