III.

THE MODEL SOLDIER,

OR

HEALTH IN INDIA.

IN a village in the south of Kent lived the widow of a small farmer named Wills. The farm was only about 20 acres, and John Wills before his death had always done the work with his own hands. His wife helped him, and his children, too, as far as they were able, when not at school; for Wills had sense enough to know that next to habits of thrift and the making themselves useful in any way they could, there was nothing which would be of so much value to them in passing through the world as the being able to read and write. His eldest son, John, had gone into service with a larger farmer in the next parish a few years before our story opens, and was now come home to take his father's place, so that his mother might not be forced to give up the farm

and leave the home in which she had lived for many years. The father had been killed by a fall from the ladder while thatching his own haystack about three months before, when rather more than 50 years old. Two of the elder girls had gone out to service, with ladies who knew them and their mother well enough to be sure that they might be trusted, and would exert themselves to do their best with any kind of work that might be given them to do. The four youngest, not yet old enough to be useful, were still sent to the village day-school; but Sam and George, being strong lads, able to do good service in driving the plough, looking after the cows, and twenty other ways to which their father had trained them, worked hard all day with their mother and brother, and went on with their learning as best they could by going to the evening class in the winter, which was kept open by the master for the good of such lads.

Sam Wills was a steady boy of 15 years old. He was very anxious to do all he could to assist and comfort his kind mother, and careful at all times not to do any act that might displease her, or give her pain. George, who was about a year younger than Sam, though in the main a well-meaning lad, was thoughtless, and sometimes apt to think of his own pleasure, and to be weak enough to listen to

the sayings and doings of others at the school and in the village, rather than to his more sober brother, or to do what his own better feelings would have led him, had he always stopped to think what he was about. Sam was very fond of his brother George, and always tried to make some excuse for him at any time that he might happen to fall into disgrace. Towards the end of the autumn, after the death of their father, a pleasure fair was to be held in a small town about eight miles from the village, to which Sam knew that two of the most idle lads whom they met at the school were going; and that they wished George to go with them. He also knew that though his mother did not object to her boys having their turn at play at any time they could be spared, or when the work was done, she did not like them to go so far from home without some one she could trust to see they did not get into any harm; and that she had much fear lest George might be led astray by these very school-boys who were now tempting him to the fair. Besides, the land had not been. in good order for working for some weeks before, and there was a great deal to be done just at this time.

"George," said he, as they were coming home from church on Sunday, "you surely will not go to the fair on Tuesday because Ned Jones asked you? Mother will be busy churning that day; I must go

with the sheep, and John will want you to drive plough for him.”

"Oh, John will be able to manage without me for once, the horses are pretty fresh, and won't give much trouble," and George began to whistle.

"But," said Sam, "you know it will take much longer than if you are there, and, besides, mother does not like us to go about with Ned Jones."

"Well, I won't ask mother, and, maybe, she won't miss me till it is most time to be back. I have never been to the fair, and Ned says there will be races and all sorts of fun, so I must go this time. Never fear I shall come to any hurt."

Sam said no more, for he knew that George was apt to be wilful, but he felt sorry, because he thought his mother would be grieved. Tuesday came; George was wanted, but could not be found; and Sam was forced to say he feared that his brother had gone off to the fair with Ned Jones, lest some greater trouble might be thought to have come to pass. John had much to do to get on with the horses, and came in at night both tired and angry.

"The young scamp ought to be well thrashed," he said, "to run off in this way without caring what trouble he gave, just when no other lad was to be had for love or money. He would make him know better before long."

He went to bed before the truant came home. His mother was greatly vexed, but said little, and was too glad to see her boy come in safe at 10 o'clock to think about scolding or troubling him with questions. Sam, who had stayed up with her, said nothing either; so George, feeling himself in disgrace, and having felt all day that he was doing wrong, was fain to confess, in his own mind, that he had often been more happy at the plough than he was that day at the fair with Ned Jones.

Several years passed away without any great event in the lives of the widow and her sons. John had never again been so well pleased with George, for he was apt to be sulky when his brother was angry, so that the sore became greater, instead of healing. Sam had gone on as before; he was always active and steady, and blessed by good temper. They had been able to rub on without getting much

the richer or poorer; but now the younger children

had learned to be of use, and the little farm was rather over stocked with both hands and mouths.

Sam and George had both talked of looking out for some service from home, when one day a party of recruits passed through the place on their way to join the regiment of soldiers at that time in the barracks of the sea-port town 20 miles off. The serjeant, who halted his party for the night, and was