MILLIE'S VICTORY.

time for all of them, the last bit of holiday, Reginald
said, laughingly, he would ever have; the following
month he was to be article to the village doctor.
The medical profession was his own choice.
 One can do so much good as a doctor," he said
one day to Millie. That was the key-note of Reginald
Templeton's character. Sensitive, tender-hearted,
shrinking from the sight of suffering, yet brave enough
to meet it in its most terrible forms, to do good.
 One evening-ah how well Millie remembered it
--she had been busy all day with the Rectory girls,
picking and preserving fruit. Mrs. Templeton kept a
large quantity in store. Nothing seemed to cure the
village children, or the village grown-up people, as a
pot of the Rector's jam.
 After tea, Reginald proposed a walk, and they
went down the deep green lanes to the fields that
bordered the village on the other side. A brook ran
through them spanned by a number of bridges. The
children had a different name for each: Ivy Bridge,
the one nearest the church, Stony Bridge, Cowslip
Bridge, and so on.
 Let's jump across," suggested Millie, setting the
example with a gay laugh, as she sprang from one
bank to the other.
 What a happy evening it was, the last of her child-
hood. Never in the years to come would the magic
of that time return. Another power would gild life
with happy glory, and tinge the sunshine and the
earth with a beauty not their own; but the fairyland
of childhood was vanishing away. She was on the
borders that evening, though she knew it not. Sorrow
was coming, and care.
 Oh! children, your lives are measured by a golden
wand I Treasure the little moments; make them