Feb. 13.—There was great excitement in the family last night; roofs of our neighbours' houses were covered with snow, the view from the windows was like a picture on a Christmas card and plans were hurriedly made for an early morning stroll. A snowfall not a everyday occurrence. However, the fall was not as heavy as the youngsters would have liked it to be; but we suppose that local farmers were more than $; fied, a fall of snow at this time of the year not very welcome to those people: it is liable to cause much damage to the young crops that have been encouraged, by the recent warm weather. to awake from their winter sleep. We are told also, that the snow is bad for the throat, so we may expect to Not he that repeateth the name, he that doth the will.
We are humbled these days and inspired by the valour of the gallant men who man the Services and by the chivalrous bearing of the civilian population of England. Let their sacrifice be a heavenly voice calling us to live less selfishly and more creatively. The crown of goodness is a life of service.
In a book published some years ago Mr. O. G. Whitfield tells of a friend of his who was fond of praying a rather curious prayer. Whenever I heard him offer a prayer, I always listened to it, and it nearly always came-"Lord," he would say, "help us to re-cinder our paths." What did he mean? I shall have to explain. In the little town where he lived the sidewalks were usually made of cinders of the salt factories, good paths they made, too, once they were well trodden down; but they soon got worn and had to be renewed froth time to time with fresh cinders. That was what my old friend was thinking about, and he was praying that God would help him to keep all the ways in which he walked,, in good condition—paths of righteousness, and truth and goodness. When the pat of our little town were re-cindered, the workmen simply spread the new. cinders all over the worn surface of the old path-way, but they did not use any roller to roll them in. They just left them to be trodden in by the feet of the passers-by, and it was not at all pleasant to walk on those loose cinders just after the paths had been repaired. 1 well remember walking with my old friend along a newly cindered path and saying to him, "Let's walk in the road." lad," he replied in his rich Cheshire brogue, "let's keep on t'path! Somebody else'll have to tread em if we don't' There are still plenty of rough places in the word; are we doing our bit to make them smooth?
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.