Trees for the Pilgrim's Wreath.

"Knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope; and hope maketh not ashamed."

TRE

Or by thorny gain-the cross,

Thou art not a barren tree;
Seeds of patience drop from thee.

Patience, bitter from thy root
Upward, till we reach thy fruit,
Thou hast golden grains to sow,
Whence experience full shall grow.

Broad experience, rank and dark,
Thick in leaves, and rough in bark,
Through thy dubious shade we grope,
Till we grasp the bough of Hope.

Hope, we're not ashamed with thee,
Showered by drops from Calvary,
When thy branches shoot and bloom
Through a Saviour's broken tomb.

Trees, whereof the pilgrim weaves
For his crown the mingled leaves,
Wreaths of you are rich and bright;
Earth the shade, and heaven the light.

H. F. GOULD.

Our Ten Weeks' Strike.

CHAPTER XIII.-AN UNEXPECTED VISIT.

wo evenings after the committee meeting of which I have last told, I was surprised by a visit from my former shopmate, Jordan, whom I had scarcely seen or spoken to since the strike began. truth is, the few words we had had about Mr. Johnson had almost separated us, although we were once "chief friends." |

The

I am afraid that my manner of receiving my old friend was anything but cordial. At any rate, I felt embarrassed, and so did he. My wife, however, was pleased to see Jordan, and she kindly asked him to come in and sit down by our fire, which he did.

"You wonder at my being here, James," said he, after a little pause, which he had occupied in warming his hands. It was a cold night, certainly; but as Robert had thick gloves on when he came in, I fancy that the hand-warming was not altogether necessary, only as it gave him a little time before beginning.

"I certainly did not expect to see you, Robert,” I answered. "You are about the last person I should have thought of."

"Why?" said he; and then he added directly, "But I need not ask you why. It is this strike that has done it all. We used to be good friends, James."

"Is there any reason why we should not be good friends again?" he asked.

"I must leave you to answer that question yourself, Robert," I said; "you ought to remember what you told me pretty nearly the last time we spoke to one another."

"What was that, James?

Why, did you not say that the less we had to say to one another the better you should like it? "

"But I put an 'if' before it; there was an 'if' before it,” repeated Jordan, earnestly; "but for all that, I am sorry I said it; it was not the way to do any good; and I wish you to forget that little bit of a skirmish.”

"Do, James," said Betsy, looking up at me pleadingly.

"With all my heart," said I. The fact is, I was sick and tired of being cut off from intercourse which at one time had been pleasant and profitable. So we shook hands upon this; and then our conversation began to flow more freely. It did not turn upon the strike at first; but presently Robert put the question to me—

"When do you mean to come back to your old shop, James ?"

"What is the use of your asking that, Robert? You know why I and the rest of us left off work, and if Mr. Johnson wants us again he knows what to do."

Robert Jordan shook his head in a negative sort of way. "That means that he won't do it, I suppose," said I. "Would you do it if you were in his place, James? Tell me that honestly," responded my old friend.

"I don't know; that depends on circumstances," I answered. "But I suppose he does not care to do it because he has found that he can do without us."

"There is no doubt he can do without you," said Robert, "because he can get as many men as he wants to fill up all your places; but they are not all filled up yet."

66 If you have any message, or offer to make, from Mr. Johnson," I said, hastily—for a suspicion crossed my mind that Jordan might have been employed by him as a gobetween to entice me back again-" it must come to us all as a body. I cannot hear what you have to say.”

"James, James," cried my wife, "don't go against your own convictions. You do know that you have been in the wrong, do you not?” And she laid her hand affectionately

on mine.

"Two wrongs don't make one right, Betsy," said I, and if the strike was foolish, I have no business to break my

agreement with the rest of the men. And so," I repeated, turning to Jordan, "if Mr. Jolmson has sent any message by you"

"But he has not, James. At the same time, I can tell you one thing, all the turn-outs are not so scrupulous as you seem to be. Two or three hands have been trying to beg back again, I know."

"Ah! and the sneaks have made a bargain for themselves, I suppose," I said, angrily.

"I would not call names, old friend," said Robert, pleasantly patting me on the shoulder. "When a poor fellow is half-starving, he does not always stop to consider about agreements made when he was fat and flourishing. So you should not be angry. And as to a bargain, there has not been any."

"Then Mr. Johnson has refused to take them on again, I suppose."

66

"No, not that either; he has put them off for a fortnight, and has promised to give them an answer then. I know this much, and I thought you would like to know it too." Robert," said I, "I am sure you mean well, and I thank you accordingly; but I don't understand you; and I would rather not say any more about the strike, for fear we should not agree."

"And I won't risk another disagreement," he said; "and, to tell the truth, I did not come to talk about the strike, only we got into it somehow. I have a favour to ask of you. I want you to do to me as you would expect me to do to you if our places were exchanged."

"I think I can promise that," said I. "But what is it?" "Well," replied Robert, "I firmly believe that if you thought I wanted a little help, and you had it to give, you would think it unkind in me to refuse it if it were kindly offered."

"What do you mean, Robert?”

"Just this, James. I have heard how Michael Collins has served you, and I can't help thinking you must be hard put