Year: 1879

the thought, remembering that he, with
his refined tastes and many kinds OF
amusement, could form no idea of the
temptation which drink might have for
this man, with his smaller advantages
of fortune and education; and then an
idea flashing across his mind, he deter
mined to act upon it.


"Have you had your tea, boypn he
asked, as he unstrapped his knapsack,
and took out small parcel wrapped in
paper.


"Mother will be sure to Feep it for
me until get home, sir" replied Char
lie, too brave to complain to stranger.


"That's all right" said Eustace,
understanding and respecting the feeling
that dictated the answer; meanwhile,
shall give you this piece OF cake, just
to pass the time away. When l was a
small boy, stray pieces of cake never
prevented me eating my meals when
they came, so your mothers tea willnot
be wasted. Now you sit still, for am
going TO paint picture, and when it is
finished / will show it to you.n


Very few dainties fell to Charles share
in those days, and Eustace was highly
amused at the manner in which he ate
his cake, nibbling it off around the edge
so as to make it last as long as possible; ;
and he succeeded so well that the pic
ture was finished almost at the same
time as the last currant disappeared.


"Well, was it good P" asked Eustace,
"as he tied his portfolio"


Yes, mother does not put currants in
her cakes. Sometimes on our birthdays,
when father has not been out, we have a
cake, but then we have no seeds in it,"


And those are not so nice ?"


"Oh, no, sir, of course not!" answered
Charlie, surprised that any one should
ask such question.


"Weil, l am glad you like it. 1 am
going back to London in a day or two,
but l shall put another piece of cake in
my knapsack in case / meet you again
before / 60. Look here, co you know
what this Isl"


Charlie glanced at the little picture
Eustace held out to him, and then he
gave a scream ofsurprise.


"Why, it's me and father!"


And so il was, and even though Eus-
tace should live to oe an old man, he
will never succeed in making anything
mole true to nature than that hurried
sketch. He had just caught the tired,
wistful look on the child's face, and it
was all the more striking as it was
brought into such contrast with the va
can't countenance of the tipsy sleeper,
who looked so thoroughly out of place
beside the child and the pleasant green
background of the hedge, where the con-
volvulus blossoms mingled with the
wild roses and black berry flowers.


"Wait moment" said Eustace, and
lo, 20 ,+t |, l<4 (+h Fl, 81,
three lines from a poem of Burns:


"Oh wad some power the giftie gle @,


TO see oursels as ithers see us,


1t wad iree mony trouble free us


"There," he continued, putting the
picture in the child's hands. You
shall have that, and if you like to show
it to'your father one of theseydays, do so
it may teach him lesson" And before
the child could make any reply, Eustace
was off and away, tramping along the
high road.


Five years had passed before the
young artist had the time and chance to
visit tie quiet village again. In those
five years he had done good work-had
thought, and worked, and painted, until
people begun to believe in him and



ising painters Of the day.


Still, in the midst of it ali, he often re-
membered his little sketch and won
dered-without much hope in the won
der, though-whether his idea that it
might do good had come to pass; and
on the day he Travelled down to Merston
the memory of the scene came clearly
before him with the thought of the grand
old words: Cast thy bread upon the
waters, for thou shalt find it after many
days"


though it was" said Eustace to himself,
"still wonder-I wonderland I'll
try to find it out, too"


And so it happened, Eustace did find
it out more quickly than he expected,
for that very evening as he was return
ing from walk, in the course of which
he had visited some of his old haunts,
there passed him on the road a man and
a handsome boy of thirteen.


my little friend and his father" sud-
denly thought Eustace, whose quick
artist eye seldom forgot face or figure,
and he quickened his pace in order to
keep within short distance of the boy.


So the three went on, past the corner
of the field where the sketch had been
taken, down the road and across the
narrow bridge, till the man and boy
reached little cottage. the small front
garden of which was gay with bright
colored, old-fashioned flowers.


That looks promising" thought Eu-
STAGE; ''no drunkard ever had q garden
like tnat;" and determined to ascertain
the facts of the case, he went up to the
door with the intention of asking the
nearest way to the next village.


Through the open door lie caught q
glimpse of the neatly-kept cottage
kitchen, as Charlie came forward to an
swer the strangers question; but before
half the right turns had been described,
bright smile broke over the boys face
and, half turning around. he exclaimed: :


" Father, it is my painter!" and to his
surprise, Eustace found that in that
household, at least, he was hero, and
the young artist never felt more rever-
ence for his art than he did as he lis
tened to the account of the good his pic
tur had done.


Forsome time Charlie had kept the
sketch and had been afraid to show it
to his father, but the man found it by
chance one day, and


1t was more than l could stand,
sir" he said, addressing Eustace. ]
did not need any one to tell me what it
meant, but although l wondered where
it came from l was ashamed to ask.
Somehow / could not get the picture
out of my head. | even used to dream
of it at night until it fairly worried me,
so that / gave up the drink; and had
the picture hung up there, that I might
not have a chance of forgetting what
dragged myself down to once"


So the story ended, and in his heart
Eustace Carroll is prouder of that little
sketch, hanging in common black
frame over the mantelpiece of the coun