A Child's Prayer for Papa

A drunkard, who had run through his property, returned one night to his unfurnished house. He entered his empty hall. Anguish was gnawing at his heart-strings, and language was inadequate to express his agony as he entered his wife’s apartment, and there beheld the victims of his appetite, his loving wife and a darling child. Morose and sullen, he seated himself without saying a word; he could not speak; he could not look up then. The mother said to the little angel at her side, Come, my child, it is time to go to bed;’ ‘’ and that little baby, as she was wont, knelt by her mother’s lap and gazing wistfully into the face of her suffering parent, like a piece of chiseled statuary, slowly repeated her nightly orison. When she had finished, the child (but four years of age) said to her mother, “Dear Mother, may I not offer up one more prayer? “” Yes, yes, my sweet pet, pray; “and she lifted up her tiny hands, closed her eyes, and prayed:” God! spare, oh! spare my dear papa! “‘1 hat prayer was lifted with electric rapidity to the throne of God. It was heard on high — it was heard on earth. The responsive” Amen! “burst from the father’s lips, and his heart of stone became a heart of flesh. Wife and child were both clasped to his bosom, and in penitence he said: My child, you have saved your father from the grave of a drunkard. I’ll sign the pledge!”