the self-helping spirited little lad. Moreover, it was an old-fashioned town, with big oak beams built into the walls of the houses, and quaint high wainscots, and carved cornices,-houses that could take a lot of evergreens to decorate them so when the short winter day closed in, and the red sun sank behind a bank of clouds, Harry was overjoyed to find his cart empty, and his pockets full-full of half-pennies and pennies. Joyfully he took back the cart to its owner, and when he arrived at the house he found that his companions had been busy during the afternoon, and had collected another large pile, so that he could resume his selling early in the morning, whilst they promised to spend the next day in cutting more. Who can describe the joy that thrilled the boy's heart as he returned home. He had money in his pocket wherewith to supply his dear mother's most pressing wants; he had an opportunity of getting more on the morrow; and more than this, he had the satisfaction of knowing he was beloved and esteemed by his companions, for it was clear they would not thus give him two or three days' help if they did not sympathise with him and like him. Pleased with these thoughts, he hurried home, and gleefully stamped his feet to shake off the snow. When he entered, he found his father and mother, and brothers and sisters shivering in the dusk, over a small fire. “Where have you been all the day, Harry," asked his mother. Harry could not refrain from keeping his secret a minute longer. "One moment, mother dear," he said," and I will tell you." Hastily he fetched a candle, lighted it, and then when all were looking to see what he was doing, in triumph he produced his earnings. You may imagine the surprise and joy with which they crowded round to hear the story, and count his money. That was the happiest time Harry had ever known in his life. His mother kissed him with tears of joy in her eyes, and his father blessed him and called him his own brave boy, whilst the little ones clustered around, and thanked him for earning them a good supper: for a good hearty meal they soon had; Harry's mother knew well how to make the most of money. The next day, Harry was also able to dispose of the large supplies of evergreens his companions brought him, and the following day as well. This last was Christmas-eve, so that with the earnings of the two days they were able to have what Harry had promised himself they should have a good Christmas dinner bought with his money. But Harry's plucky conduct had other good effects. It touched his father's rebellious heart, and the man resolved to do what he had vowed he never would, and that was-ask his old master's pardon. Now this gentleman had likewise heard of this lad's good behaviour, and the sufferings of the family; and when John Jackson presented himself, and humbly apologised for his offence, and asked to be taken on again, he found a kind and attentive listener, and was finally reinstated in his former post. "At Christmas time we must all forgive and forget, you know, Jackson." "Let sinned against and sinning So it was indeed a happy Christmas Day that Harry brought to his home. He is an old man now, and has children of his own, but he has never forgotten to practise those virtues of pluck and energy he found so useful when he saved from extreme poverty his father's house on that memorable Christmas time! W F. M. H. OUR CAT AND HER KITTENS. A TRUE STORY. It HEN I was about ten years old we removed to a house such as is seldom seen now. was rather old-fashioned, but extremely comfortable. In most of the rooms there were large cupboards (one was as big as a little room itself), bookcases built in the walls, painted ceilings, large fire-places, and seats under the windows. And there was actually a secret staircase. We could go up to the upper rooms from the hall and descend to the kitchens by an entirely different way: a capital arrangement for a game of hide and seek. Our garden, several acres, was one of those luxurious old English gardens now so rare when land is becoming too valuable to be used merely as pleasure ground. What currant bushes we had, red, black, and white, in that old garden! What strawberry beds! What peaches, plums, aud nectarines, ripening on the walls! And fruit trees of nearly every kind; we had also a walnut tree, giving us thousands of walnuts every autumn; and we had the only mulberry tree in the neighbourhood, whose leaves boys and girls used to come and beg for their silkworms. We came to this house in March, and one Sunday evening, a few weeks after our arrival, we were sitting round the fire when we heard a mournful cry outside the window. We opened the window, and in walked a thin tortoiseshell cat. She seemed nearly starved, and looked the picture of gratitude when we let her come near the fire. Not having a cat, we resolved to keep this stray animal (who must have wandered some distance, as our neighbours were few, and none of them had lost a cat), and we became so fond of her that we called her Pet. Pet soon became a fine fat cat, and a capital mouser, and one morning we children were told that Pet was the happy mother of four little kittens. What dears they were! Two were entirely black, one was black and white, and the other the flower of the flock-was black, with just a white spot on its neck, which we called a brooch. The christening was an important affair. One of the black kittens was called Tom, and sometimes Tom Peter; the other-it was the time of the Crimean war-we named Lord Raglan; the black and white became Topsy, “ Uncle Tom's Cabin " was a popular book then; and the other one I called Tim, because we had a cat named Tim when I was a baby. Three of these kittens we were to keep; but we gave Lord Raglan to our schoolmaster. His life was short. Some one shut a door in a hurry, and poor Lord Raglan was squeezed to death. 66 HAPPY New Year! How pleasant it is to hear your friends and relations wishing you to breakfast on New Year's Day. But how much happiness in those words, as you come down more delightful still it would be if you could think that you really would have the whole long year which is now stretching out before youhappy. your Children! If you think so, remember that the Well, the other kittens became cats; and I'll way to have a really happy year does not consist tell you something about their looks and charac-in having a big house, plenty of money, and lots ters. Tom was one of the largest cats ever seen. of toys and story books. You know very well that He was not afraid of anything, and never had a loss of money could sweep all those things out of day's illness. Topsy was a poor creature with a sorrowful face, and a still more sorrowful voice; health and strength, sickness might take both reach. You know, if happiness consisted in and Tim!—if ever I loved anything in this world away any day. Real happiness all can have, rich it was that cat Tim. He was almost human, and or poor, high or low, if you are like Jesus, who seemed to understand all we said to him. I know went about doing good to all, and was pitiful and I played so much with Tim that we called him kind and merciful even to the unthankful and an acrobat; his bones could bend anyhow. I the unholy. To know that you are reconciled to bought him a collar, and a fine fellow he looked God your Father, that you are trying to live to in it. I remember going to the seaside one au- and for Him, that you have power over sin, and tumn, when my only anxiety was being separated live in the favour of God, that makes such a from Tim. I remember my joy when I returned peace in your heart that you will indeed know to home and Tim. He was a good cat, and re- what real happiness is. turned kindness with kindness. We stayed three years in that house, and only left because it wanted thoroughly repairing, which our landlord declined to do. He sold it to a builder, who soon made it fit for his residence; and we went to a new house in the neighbour hood. Of course we took our three cats. We had only three then, for Pet had been found guilty several times of stealing, so we gave her to a farmer who wanted a good mouser in his loft, where there was nothing to steal. Tim objected to the change of residence. He was missing. Guessing he had gone back to the old house, I went there, and found him in one of his favourite haunts among the ivy. I carried him home; but he ran back to the ivy again and again, and at last I could not find him in the ivy or anywhere. He was either lost, killed, or stolen, and I never saw my dear old Tim any more. Topsy's end was mysterious. We fancied our man-servant killed her, because she was sickly and useless. He said he was unable to drown even a cat. At all events Topsy disappeared. happy days and hours. Although troubles may Then, to have a happy year, you must have come and cloudy days, if you have the sunlight in your heart that I have just been describing, it will help you to bear them. Then, start fresh every day. Every morning pray for strength to fight against sin and keep yourself from evil. Ask to be made loving and gentle, patient and humble. Use your own efforts to be all these, and God will bless them. At home and at school, if you are gentle to all, forgiving to those who injure you, humble and earnestly trying to follow your Great Example, the Lord Jesus Christ, you can hardly fail to be happy. fades away. ever. So Tom was the last of his race, as far as we were concerned, and Tom Peter lived to a good old age. I often used to wonder whether he missed his brother and sister; but of course he couldn't tell us. He became blind, and died at last of extreme old age; carefully attended upon to L. E. D. SOMETHING ABOUT SUGAR. LOW would the readers of the BRITISH JUVENILE like to be without sugar? No sweetness to their bread and milk for breakfast, nothing soften the roughness of fruit-puddings; and, worst of all (in their estimation), no sweetmeats to buy on half-holidays! But unpleasant as this would be to them, it was the case with the juveniles of three hundred years ago, and millions have done without, what now every one regards as an absolute necessity. No record of sugar having been used in England, appears before the year 1497, and for some considerable time it was so dear that only the wealthiest could afford to purchase and to use it. It is said, however, that the ingenious and cunning Chinese made use of the valuable article centuries before it was brought to India and Arabia, from which countries it came to Europe. To a Venetian merchant (whose name I regret I cannot tell you) belongs the honour of making it thoroughly known to this Continent. About the year 1250, he visited Bengal, and made himself master of the cultivation of the plant, and the manufacture of its sweet product. Returning to his native city, he introduced it more fully to his wealthy countrymen, and a trade in it soon sprang up. The Venetians also learnt how to refine sugar and make it into "loaves" for easy transport. It was much later, however (as we have just stated), before it appears to have found its way to England. The grand discoveries by Columbus, of the West Indies and the American Continent, gave a great impulse to its manufacture and use. Either the new comers found the plant growing under the hot sun of the New World, or soon discovered that it would thrive there; at all events, within a few years, Spain, Portugal, France, and England had their sugar-plantations across the broad Atlantic, which plantations have increased, until now they are able to supply the present immense demands of the world. A sugar-plantation presents a most beautiful sight. Rows of the richly leaved cane wave luxuriantly in the passing breeze like giant wands of peace and plenty; their long leaves mingling and rustling together, whilst the stalks ripen for the reaper's knife. These stalks are (like all species of cane), round and hard, and divided at irregular intervals by joints, from which spring out the long half-drooping fronds, or leaves. soon as filled, are driven rapidly away to the sugarhouse. Now commences the most important part in the history of sugar manufacture, for the sugarhouse is the scene of the great transformation which takes place between the ripe canes and the sugar with which we are all so familiar. The canes, when they reach the sugar-house, are taken to the grinding room, and are there placed in rows upon thin planks, which being connected together by two endless chains, carry the stalks to the first heavy pair of rollers. These grind them almost to pulp, and the rich juice flows from the rollers to the tank beneath; but lest any of the precious sap should still remain in the crushed canes, they are passed on by another series of planks to a second and closer pair of rollers, which compress the mass of broken fibres and pith yet more tightly, until every drop of sweet juice is squeezed out. On coming from this second rough embrace the shapeless mass is only fit for fuel, and is used to boil the sap which but a short time since, flowed so freely in it. This sap is conducted from the tanks into which it flowed from the rollers, by troughs to the huge open pans or kettles in which it is boiled. There are generally five of these kettles, and underneath them a fierce fire rages, which keeps the liquid in a constant state of ebullition. Around them hover the sugar-maker and his attendants, armed with long wooden spatulas, with which they break the air bubbles as they rise, lest the liquid should froth over, and so spoil the "boiling.' " Whenever the dark tumbling mass of liquid appears about to settle down to quiescence, loud shouts warn the stoker that his fire is getting low, and he must at once pile on fresh fuel, for at any cost the syrup must be kept at its highest boiling point. The last kettle in the row is the most important, for it is here that the liquid is the thickest, and that the “striking point is ascertained. By this is meant the state into which the liquid comes when, having been sufficiently boiled, it will, on being taken out and put into large shallow pans to "cool," strike into those crystals which are so familiar to us as brown or moist sugar. In the tropical climate of Cuba and the West Over this last kettle then the chief sugar-boiler Indies, the new plants spring up every year from presides, watching the seething mass with the the old stubble, but in the more northern lati-keenest care, ever and anon dipping in his huge tudes where slight frosts sometimes kill or harm the old roots, a number of canes have to be preserved for next year's planting, as from each joint in the stem there is an "eye," which, when buried in the ground, shoots up into a new plant. It is asserted that sugar-canes have never been known to grow from seeds, only from cuttings in this way. All summer long, the canes grow and thrive and ripen, until at last the day comes when, being ready to be crushed, the negroes go forth in groups, and with huge broad-bladed knives, cut them down close to the ground. A troop of lads follow the cutters, and gathering the golden canes from the ground, pile them in carts, which, as wooden spoon or spatula to see if on cooling in it the liquid appears ready to " strike." When in his judgment it has reached this point, he commences to ladle the boiling liquor into a large trough which stands near, and which conducts it to the "cooler" appointed to receive it. He labours at this work with frantic zeal, for it is most important that the "striking" liquor he baled out of its kettle at once. As he works, the diminished quantity left in the kettle boils more furiously still, until his assistant perceives that if left longer in the glowing pan it would be burnt; he therefore proceeds to qualify it with the contents of the preceding kettle, which not having been so long boiled, is not yet ready to strike. As he does this, his companion ceases his labour. The second kettle is in its turn replenished from its predecessor, and so on, until the last is reached, which is filled with the raw juice as it came down the troughs from the rollers. Not exactly as it came from the rollers, however, for in the mean time it has passed through a tank wherein it has been tempered with lime. This process requires great nicety of judgment, and many considerations have to be taken into account; as for instance, the nature of the soil on which the crop was grown, and whether the summer has been wet or dry. After a few "strikes," however, the proper quantity is easily ascertained and adhered to for the remainder of the crop. The boiled syrup remains in the "coolers" for a day or two, until it has granulated or crystalised sufficiently into sugar; it is then shovelled into hogsheads, and conveyed to another room called the " purgery." The hogsheads are here placed over huge troughs into which the “ molasses" drip from the drying sugar, through holes bored for that purpose in the bottom of the casks. The molasses of course is the thick liquid which has not granulated into sugar. When the tank becomes full, the molasses is barrelled up, ready for market, and the planter expects the sale of this article (which is largely used in America), to pay all the expenses of the sugar-making, so that the crop in the hogsheads is clear profit. A short time before Christmas, the sugarmaking is finished, and then when the last drop of molasses is barrelled up, and the last hogshead of sugar stowed away in the store-room, the pots and pans, the troughs and tanks are all thoroughly cleaned, and the sugar-house tidied up for another year. From first to last, the time occupied has been about three months, and from the day on which the first cane is cut, to the joyful moment when the sugar-house resumes its wonted aspect of quietude, the planter and his labourers have worked untiringly, and almost without rest, and now they enjoy a well-earned holiday. Now the pedlars visit the plantation with their gaudiest handkerchiefs, ribbons, and trinkets, and effect speedy sales; and whilst the planter and his family seek rest in some watering-place, his crop is being carried all over the world to exercise its beneficial and sweetening influences. But, says some one, you have not told us how the "lump or white sugar is made. That is another process, called sugar-refining, and is not carried on at the plantations. After being shipped to England, the raw sugar is placed in large tanks capable of holding from three to six tons, and thereto is added a proportionate quantity of water -equal to half the weight of the sugar, which is then dissolved in it by heat and agitation. The hot liquor is then filtered slowly through a deep bed of animal charcoal, which removes the colour, and any other impurities. It is finally concentrated by boiling the now decolourised liquor until nearly all the water has passed off in steam; the remainder is then poured into cool moulds, where it crystalises, and appears as the familiar sugar-loaf. This is perhaps the purest form of sugar known, and is literally (or should be, if unadulterated) composed of "true" sugar, and should therefore sweeten more than an equal weight of other sugars. Treacle is the uncrystalisable residue of sugarrefining, and contains only about thirty-five per cent. of true sugar. I hope now that the readers of the BRITISH JUVENILE, whenever they use this useful commodity,-sugar,-will remember something of the many processes through which it has passed, and also thank the All-wise Creator for so bountifully providing it that it is cheap enough to be within the reach of all. FLORA'S PROTECTOR. F. M. H. "I would directly, my darling, if Uncle Howard could satisfy us as to his temper." "But that I cannot do," replied the gentleman referred to; "in all other respects Gelert is a splendid hound; but though looking tractable and gentle, he has a very irritable disposition. I have seen nothing of it myself, but Adolph gives him a very bad character. Twice the creature has flown at him, and serious harm might have been done had not assistance been at hand. He is all very well where he takes a fancy, but he forms curious likes and dislikes." As her uncle ceased speaking, his little niece withdrew her thoughtful gaze from his countenance, but not before he had caught the expression of her large dark eyes. "You think Adolph has drawn Gelert's enmity on himself?" he questioned. Between her wish to speak the truth, and yet not give pain to her uncle, the child hesitated ere replying, but gathering strength from her father's reassuring smile, she answered, "I do not think Cousin Adolphus treats his pets as kindly as he ought; in trying to break their tempers he only makes them worse, and if they resist him in any way he calls them vicious." Both gentlemen were amused with the mixture of warmth and diffidence with which this statement was made. But Flora could be courageous in the defence of her four-footed friends, with whom she was always on affectionate terms. As she had very good reasons for believing that Gelert had not received kind treatment from his young master, she was anxious to possess the "That is of no consequence," answered Flora's uncle in reply to his brother's query; "the loss of the hound may teach him to treat dumb animals with more consideration. If you won't accept Gelert, I shall sell him; but I believe, kindly treated, he would prove a faithful friend." Another "Do Papa," whispered with almost trembling breath, followed these words. It was seldom Philip Gordon denied his motherless daughter anything within reason, and, had it not been for the judicious management of Aunt Judith, who presided over his household, joined to a generous, straightforward disposition on Flora's part, there would have been some danger of her being over-indulged. Persuaded by the facts elicited in the foregoing dialogue that Gelert was not as formidable as he had at first feared, Mr. Gordon was but too pleased to gratify his child's desire; and, to her intense delight she received permission to accept her uncle's present. "He is to belong entirely to me, Papa ?" 66 Entirely, my dear; you are his mistress; he looks gentle and faithful enough to requite any amount of affection that you may bestow upon him." Mr. Gordon stooped to pat the head of the new arrival as he uttered these words, and all fears as to the wisdom of allowing his daughter such a companion vanished as he noted the expression of his eyes. This change of owners was a red letter day in Gelert's existence; and he manifested his appreciation of humane treatment by the usual devotion which these sagacious creatures bestow on those who show them kindness. From the day of this transfer no more was heard of his "temper," and if he were afflicted with so troublesome a burden, he concealed it so skilfully that all unanimously declared it must have been provoked by Adolph's rough usage. As time rolled on and the glory of the autumn days gave place to a keener atmosphere and less brilliant sun, Gelert's services were in great request. Woodside and its surroundings were cheerful enough as long as zephyrs blew and long days lasted; but with the departure of these the inhabitants of the locality pronounced their part of the country very lonely. Too lonely by far for any little maiden to wander over its breezy hillocks without a protector; and what Flora would have done in those winter days, when Aunt Judith was laid up, and Miss Privitt-the little lady's kind instructress-was summoned home on urgent business, it is difficult to say, had it not been for her faithful companion, for it was not always convenient for a servant to accompany her. With Gelert, Flora was allowed to take short rambles unattended; and such confidence was placed in him that, on Miss Privitt's return and Aunt Judith's recovery, his guardianship of his young mistress was not interfered with. Every fine day the little girl and her faithful follower might be seen starting for their walk. In her warm fur jacket and winter clothing, Flora never minded the keenness of the atmosphere nor the threatening appearance of the clouds, of which in their part of the country they had a fine display, and often she would venture abroad when more prudent people would have kept in doors. "Only a little way, Auntie,” she would say persuasively, "it does me good to have a run, and Gelert will be so disappointed if I'm not ready for a walk as usual-we shan't be having any more snow yet awhile." Almost against her better judgment, Aunt Judith on one of these occasions gave the desired permission, and Gelert and his mistress set off together. But Flora's prophecy concerning the snow proved incorrect; and had she been endowed with a common amount of prudence she would have set her face homewards as soon as the first feathery flakes began to descend. But rather enjoying than otherwise the novelty of being out in the snow, and regardless of danger attending such a pleasure, she scampered on, Gelert bounding buoyantly at her side. "Just to the top of the Rise, Gel, then home we o!" go! "The top of the Rise" was an elevated portion of the Downs, at the foot of which Woodside Hall stood. Reaching the eminence, the little maiden paused breathless to look around her, but "the whitening shower" at that moment descended in such violence that she could not see a yard before her face, much less the gabled roof and chimney pots of her own home. Realising that danger might attend her thoughtless act, she lost not a moment in turning back. With her mind somewhat disturbed by the memory of uncomfortable incidents in which travellers had been lost in the snow, she took a wrong direction and hurried on, wondering at Gelert's strange behaviour. he For some time he followed her submissively, though with evident uneasiness, uttering low but deep barks; but, as she continued her course, suddenly stood on two legs, placed his fore paws on her shoulder, as though trying to bar her progress, and at last, seizing a part of her jacket with his mouth, he almost pulled her to the ground in his ungentle endeavours to prevent her pursuing the road she had taken. "You naughty dog! what are you doing? you unkind thing!" exclaimed Flora almost passionately, with difficulty restraining her tears at her favourite's queer conduct. "I will not come with you, sir; I will go home you are a wicked dog to wish it!" Still trying to free herself from his grasp, she at last wrenched the garment from his mouth, |