Chapter III

SO when Jack brought his empty basket at last, and laid the money down on the table, she kissed him, and said a cheery word or two.

"Jack, I see you have done your best to make up for this morning! Now, have your tea, and then you may go down to see the boats in. There's a high sea on, and they'll have a job to beach them. I'm glad in that way that your father won't be in to-night. He's safer out there."

Jack lifted his face to give her a kiss.

"Thank you, mother," he said, more gratefully than was his wont.

And he was off like a shot to the only landing place where, in rough weather, the boats could be brought up, and there he stood among the men, ready to catch the rope that was thrown, or to do any little service with all his might.

"I hope it won't be like this when father lands to-morrow," said Jack to himself. "Poor father! I wish I hadn't been so rough to him to-day. But I never can hold my tongue! Perhaps some day, when I get older—"

And then some of his grandfather's words had come back to him—"Jack-a-Napes, there's nothing like serving Christ for getting rid of the devil! That's the best way, my boy!"

The next day, however, the wind had risen to a gale, and the waves dashed against the cliff with the noise of thunder.

Jack did not say much. But he started out bright and early with the remainder of his fish, and often he cast a glance over the sea and at the scudding clouds, longing that the wind might abate before the other fishing boats were expected.

Perhaps he had never spent such an unhappy day. He remembered how he had wished in his anger yesterday that father never would come back; and the thought seemed to burn into him like fire.

The moment he could get off, he ran down to the beach, and there he stood for many long hours, sheltering from the wind behind a big rock, and watching the sea line with large anxious eyes. What if father never came back?

It began to grow dusk, but still he watched. Suddenly in his despair, he thought of praying! He dropped on his knees behind the great rock, and though his voice was drowned by the thunder of the waves, he felt sure God heard his broken words.

"Please, heavenly Father, forgive me, and make me a good boy to father,
and bring him safe home, for Jesus' sake."

He rose feeling wonderfully comforted, and then he saw a stir among the sailors, and on the crest of a wave fast coming in was his father's boat!

"Thank the Lord!" said grandfather's voice close to him. "For hearing our prayers and bringing him home, Jack-a-Napes!"

"PUNCHINELLO."

A TRUE STORY.

GWENDOLINE hugged her doll rapturously, and, looking up in her mother's face, exclaimed, "I love Punchinello better than 'anything' in the world!"

So saying, she put him down to go and learn her evening text.

To-night it was, "Little children, keep yourselves from idols."

"What does 'idols' mean, mother?"

"Anything in our hearts that we put in the place God ought to have; or anything that we love more than we do Him," said her mother softly.

In her own mind, she was learning the text too, and as she gazed at her little daughter afresh, she was asking that she might love her heavenly Father more—much more—and her fatherless little girl next.

Gwendoline, unconscious of her mother's thoughts, learned her text, and then went to bed, returning only for her good-night kiss.

"Mother," said she, as she lay in her arms for her "cuddle," as she called it, "mother, is God sad if we have an idol?"

"Why, yes, Gwenny, He is, for He loved us so much as to give His Son to die for us."

"Then—" with a slight sob—"I mustn't love Punchinello 'best' any more."

"No, darling; and He loves you so much, it will not be hard to love Him."

"I will, I do," said the child softly. "And, mother, please may I give Punchinello to the little lame Mary, and that will 'help' me not to love him too much."

So next day, Gwendoline took her dear Punchinello to little lame Mary, and added a great brightness and joy to the life of the sick child.

As she put the doll into Mary's hand, Gwendoline whispered, "It is because Jesus loves me I give you that, and also to help me remember to love 'Him' best; so you'll remember too, won't you?"

Mary did remember, every time she played with her dear dolly.

And little Gwenny went home and remembered too.

So years passed on, and Gwendoline learned to love Jesus Christ and God much best, and was content to leave her nice home and go and teach the heathen of His great love.

And her mother had her prayer answered, and she too learned to love God best, and was willing to spare her child to do God's great work.

And so their prayer was answered.

HIRA'S QUEST.