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their tongues hung out at their mouths, and violent convulſion fits ſhewed that they were wringing with death. A miſhap like this had never befallen the good wife ſince ſhe began houſekeeping; ſhe ſunk down, quite overpowered with grief, on a bundle of ſtraw, holding her apron before her face, for ſhe could not bear to look at the poor creatures’ dying ſtruggles. At laſt ſhe exclaimed, with a profound ſigh, ‘Unfortunate woman that I am! what ſhall I do now? and what will my ſour huſband ſay when he comes home? Alas! God’s bleſſing has now forſaken me for ever in this world!’ The ſame inſtant ſhe condemned her heart for the profane thought.—‘If the poor cattle be all the bleſſing God has given thee in this world, what is Stephen, and what are thy children?’—She bluſhed deep for her raſhneſs—‘Farewell all the riches in the world,’ thought ſhe, ‘ſtill thou haſt thy huſband and thy four children. The fountain of milk for the poor ſuck-