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[Illustration: HOP-PICKING. (_See page 274._)]




  THE

  LITTLE GLEANER.

  A

  Monthly Magazine for the Young.

  VOL. X., NEW SERIES.
  1888.

  LONDON:
  HOULSTON AND SONS, 7, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C.;
  AND E. WILMSHURST, BOOKSELLER, BLACKHEATH, S.E.




  LONDON:
  PRINTED BY W. H. AND L. COLLINGRIDGE,
  148 AND 149, ALDERSGATE STREET, E.C.

[Illustration: _Engraved by S. W. Partridge & Co._

"WELL, THEN, COME TO THE CANAL." (_See page 4._)]




THE EDITOR'S NEW YEAR'S ADDRESS TO HIS YOUNG FRIENDS.


Dear young friends,--We wish you each and all a very Happy New Year,
and, above all things else, that it may prove to many of you a year of
grace--that is, we pray that the rich saving grace of God may be put in
the hearts of many of our readers who hitherto have not called upon Him
for mercy.

How many who began the year 1887 in health are now laid in the grave!
Some, no doubt, who read this address will be thinking of others who
read last year's, and who were interested in THE LITTLE GLEANER,
watching for its appearance month by month, but who now have passed
away, and will no more read it, nor walk and talk with them again.

The other month, a wrapper in which a GLEANER had been enclosed by some
friend to a person in Ireland was sent to us bearing this solemn mark,
"_Dead_." This told us that the person to whom the GLEANER had been sent
had become the prey of death, and would never read another.

Oh, how solemn that word looked and sounded to us--"_dead_!" and the
thought rushed into our mind, "How did he die? Where is he? If he died
in Christ, it is well with him, for all who thus die are eternally at
rest, free from sin, care, pain, and sorrow. Yea, they are 'for ever
with the Lord.'"

Dear reader, how is it with you? You are spared, while some have been
called from time into eternity. We hope you feel this to be a mercy, and
we now ask, Have you ever been led to the throne of grace, concerned
about sin and salvation? Has the cry ever gone from your heart to the
Lord, "God be merciful to me a sinner"? If not, oh, that, as this year
begins to pass away, the Spirit may cause your heart to feel the guilt
of your sin, and lead you, a poor, burdened, contrite one, to the feet
of Him who died on the cross, and whose blood cleanses those who are
thus brought unto Him from all sin. Then you shall prove that He is
"mighty to save"--yea, "able to save all those to the uttermost that
come unto God by Him."

We believe that many who will read these words have proved the ability
of Christ Jesus to save, and that others are seeking Him, and longing to
know that their sins are forgiven. We rejoice over them, and pray that
many more may be brought to walk the same way, for it is the way from
sin, death, and hell, and the way to Christ, peace, and heaven. All who
walk therein belong to the flock of the Good Shepherd; and we can say to
each one who has thus fled to Him for refuge, "He careth for you." His
love is stronger than death, and knows no change, for He is "the same
yesterday, and to-day, and for ever."

Dear young friends, there is a reality in the religion of Jesus, and we
pray that, in this truth-despising day, you may feel the power of grace,
and, by the work of the Spirit in your hearts, be so grounded in the
truth that you may turn with contempt from all those who, while they
profess to preach, have not the knowledge of God and His truth in them;
and, although they are anxious to discredit the Word of God, and set
aside the atonement of Christ, yet they do not know what to substitute
for them. All who follow such leaders are certainly being led on "the
down grade," and even the leaders themselves confess that they do not
know where they shall be landed. Some have already been landed in
Socinianism, and others in infidelity. Therefore, we say to all our
readers, Abide by and hold fast the Word of God, Cleave to those who
preach the pure and simple truths of the Gospel of Christ, as recorded
in the Scriptures, and may the Lord bless you with faith to receive
them in your heart. Then you shall "know the truth, and the truth shall
make you free."

Dear young friends, we seek your good, therefore we thus write, hoping
that our word of warning may not be in vain, but that some may be put on
their guard against preachers and teachers who have nothing but the
shifting sands of science for a foundation, which must all be swept
away, and those who build thereon must perish in the ruin.

Oh, may we be found on the Rock, Christ, living and dying, and be
enabled to declare before all these deceivers, "I know whom I have
believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have
committed unto Him against that day."

Children, do not forget the Bible. Obey, honour, and love your parents.
Avoid bad company, bad and foolish books, and evil habits. These things
will bring shame and misery to those who follow them, therefore shun
them all.

We still ask your help in spreading the GLEANER and the SOWER. May the
Lord make them useful, and bless you with His covenant blessing, is the
desire of

                                                     THE EDITOR.




A TOUCHING INCIDENT.


A very touching incident occurred lately at Governeur Hospital, New York
City.

Little Annie Ashpurvis was sent by her parents to the cellar for some
firewood. The child, who was but six years old, took a lighted lamp in
her hand, and while descending the stairs, her foot slipped, and she
fell, breaking the lamp, the flames of the burning fluid soon enveloping
her entire body. As soon as the surgeon was called, the little sufferer
was driven in an ambulance to the hospital. The child was put on a sofa
cot, and the surgeon did all he could to alleviate her suffering, but it
was impossible to save her life. Under the influence of a narcotic, she
soon fell asleep. Thus she lay slowly breathing for some hours. Her face
was so swollen that she could not open her eyes. About half-past two in
the morning she showed signs of returning consciousness. The watchful
nurse asked her if she would take a drink. She distinctly answered,
"Yes." In a moment the house surgeon was beside her cot. He felt the
pulse, but shook his head, and turned to go away. As he did so, the
little creature moved her body. She turned half around. The dim light of
the candle shone on the blackened face. The swollen lips pursed out, and
in a clear, sweet voice, the dying child began to sing, "Nearer, my God,
to Thee." The doctor and the nurse stood transfixed. The other patients
in the silent, darkened ward leaned on their elbows and drank in the
sweet melody. The first verse completed, she gradually sank back on her
pillow. Her strength began to fail, and with it her voice, and only the
humming, like distant music, of the air of the hymn could be heard. How
sweet, yet weird, that humming sounded! The candle lent its meagre
light, and the big clock in the corner told out its seconds, as the
sweet little soul passed out to its Maker. The humming ceased. All was
over. The doctor turned away with his handkerchief raised to his eyes.
The nurse gazed into the flame of the candle, and heaved a sigh. She
seemed to read the little one's death there.

When the remains were buried, the coffin was strewn with flowers,
offerings of her little schoolmates, with whom the dead child had been a
great favourite.--

                                             _Evangelist_.


SELF-DENIAL.--There never did, and never will, exist anything permanent,
and noble, and excellent in a character which was a stranger to the
exercise of resolute self-denial.




"ONLY ONCE."


"Stop a minute, James. We're making up a skating party to go down the
river to-night. We shall build a fire on the island, and have a grand
time. Come, go with us."

"No, George, I can't. Father says I must skate on the canal. It isn't so
wide, nor quite so good skating, I know, but it's safe."

"Nonsense! The ice is at least two inches thick anywhere, even in the
thinnest places."

"No matter. I can't skate on the river."

"Well, then, come to the canal. You can skate out to the fork, where it
joins the river, and see us all. Will you do that?"

"Yes."

"All right. Be there at seven."

James was ready with his skates at the time appointed, and about to
leave the house.

"Where now, James?" asked his father.

"I'm going to skate awhile on the canal, father."

"Well, it's a bright evening, but don't stay late, and don't go on the
river."

Just then James's little sister, Marion, who was ready to go to bed,
shouted after him, "Stop, James! Give me a kiss," and holding up her
rosebud mouth, in a plump face, from which the laughing eyes were
shining, she received his good-night kiss, and he went out. As he passed
the window, he saw, through the half-drawn curtains, little Marion by
her mother, with the Bible. The father had laid his Book down, and they
sat reverently listening while his petition went up to heaven. It was a
beautiful picture. Poor Jamie! With what different feelings would he
