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WHERE I WENT AND WHAT I SAW. Ir was summer time, and very hot. My eldest and my youngest son went with me. Our journey of one hundred and thirty miles was on a pleasant errand, but I need not tell what it was to do; but when we had done it, I and my eldest son went to see the great iron ship from which they had been trying to lay down a cable of telegraph wires on the bottom of the sea from England to America. We went in a steamer down the river Medway, and soon saw the big black ship lying at anchor, about two miles from Sheerness. Ah, Sheerness ! That makes me think of my own dear mother, who, when I was a boy, always when the newspaper came, told me to look if there was anything about Sheerness, for she was born at that village on the hill two miles from it just one hundred years ago.

When we ran up close to the mighty ship our steamer looked like a little boat by the side of her. We went up the long flight of steps that led to the deck, and then walked to that end where they let down the cable over rollers into the sea, one of the clever men who helped to do it telling us all about it. He was very sorry they had not done it, but felt sure


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they should do it yet. When we turned round and looked to the other end of the deck it was like looking up a great wide street. We then walked all along the deck, and went down to see the grand cabin, and rooms, and sleeping places below, but all seemed dull and gloomy, for there were only a few men on board. In about an hour we had seen all we could, when the steamer from Sheerness called for us, and soon took us back to Chatham.

That afternoon we went by rails to Margate, and having had a cup of tea we walked on the pier and saw how the crowds of visitors amused themselves at this busy bathing place. The sea was calm, and so many young people were out in boats. Boys and girls were trying to catch fish from the sides of the pier, but I dont think they knew how, for I did not see them catch any.

Next day we went on to the old city of Canterbury, for we wanted to see it and its famous Cathedral. Did you ever see one of these great stone buiidings, much larger than the largest parish church?

But I have not room to tell you now about any of the many grand tombs and curious old things we saw in that noble building, or about our visit to Dover and Folkestone, and how we went over to Calais, in


we tell

France, and what we saw there-all which was new to us, and will seem very funny to you when you about the French boys and girls.

What they said we dont know, but we can tell you what they did ; and one thing we can tell you now—they seemed as fond of play as any of you.

« ONLY a baby's grave !"

A foot or two at most
Of daisy sod, yet think not that God

Saw not the tears which it cost.
“ Only a baby's grave !"

So said some children small
As they sat there to sing, for so small a thing

Seem'd hardly a grave at all.
“ Only a baby's grave !"

Why should you so moan and fret ?
Though we saw its face for a very short space,

That face we can never forget.
“ Only a baby's grave !"

Did we measure our sorrow by his,
Few tears need we shed over baby dead,

For he is now happy in bliss.
“ Only a baby's grave !"

Its life was not much
Too small as a gem, for the King's diadem,

Whose kingdom is made up of such.
“ Only a baby's grave !"

Yet we often come here to sit
In sight of the place, and thank God for the grace

Which draws us to heaven by it.

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THE BOY MARTYR. A MARTYR is one who would sooner die a.cruel death than deny Jesus Christ, or say he did not love him. About three hundred years ago the Roman priests sent bad men one night to break into a house in Holland, and bring to prison a man and his wife and two boys because they would read the Bible and pray to Jesus.




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They soon took the father and his eldest boy out to burn them alive in the open street.

When they got to the place the boy looked up and said, “Look, my father! all heaven is opening, and I see ten hundred thousand angels joying over us! Let us be glad, for we are dying for the truth.”

They kept the mother and the other boy in prison seven more days, and then when they found that they would not deny Jesus, they brought them out too and burned them to ashes.

And so this family, parted by wicked men for a few days on earth, soon met again in heaven to live that Eternal Life which Jesus gives to all who love his name.

From burning pains to endless joys,

On fiery wheels they rode,
And strangely washed their garments white

In Jesus' dying blood. And not only in Holland, but in England, about the same time, in the reign of that wretched woman, Queen Mary, many men, and women, and young people, were burned to death for the same things, by the Romish priests. In Spain hundreds upon hundreds were; and now, though they dare not burn them, they send them to prison for reading the Bible. How thankful we should be who live in England now.

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