The Wood-sled in the Kitchen.
ONE winter evening, not long since, I went to call upon a neighbor who was in very feeble health, and in whom I had taken great interest. She was a simple and humble Christian woman who manifested great patience through her sickness, though she enjoyed but few of the comforts, and none of the luxuries which an abundance of this world's goods can bestow. On receiving the answer, "Come in," to my knocking on the "keeping-room" door, I entered the humble apartment, and what was my surprise to see about half the room taken up by a great double-sled, such as we often see drawn by oxen in the winter, working upon which the husband of my friend was most vigorously employed. "Excuse me, madam," said the honest man, rising and making a very civil bow, "my wife was feeling pretty poorly this evening, and the little ones are in bed, and so I thought I would bring my wood-sled in here to paint, so as to keep her company, as I have promised to have it finished tomorrow." "That is right, Mr. Ellis," I replied. "Please make no apology, for I am delighted to see you so sociable. And how much more pleasant for both of you; for here is my friend Janette sitting by the fire with her knitting in the big cosy chair, and you working away at your sled, and you can chat together more merrily, I dare say, than if you were sitting in some elegant drawing-room, with nothing to do." After making a very pleasant call, I bade my friend good evening, and on my way home, I thought, "Here is the secret of the happiness of this unpretending couple. They are dependent upon each other for all their comforts and pleasures; and, in their simple way, they enjoy life because they do not go beyond their own limited home circle for all their enjoyments." This simple picture of my friend, Mr. Ellis, painting his big wood-sled in the room, so as to keep his wife company, has become almost like a proverb in our family. "Can't you bring in your wood-sled, and come and sit with us?" is often said, where some slight occupation comes in the way of a social meeting. And often this humble home picture has been brought to my mind, when I have witnessed how far apart the employment of husband and wife seems to be. "I must go to my office, this evening, my dear," says the husband to the delicate wife, who has been very lonely all day. I say to myself, "Why can't you bring your wood-sled into the house, and sit with your wife, and be a happy couple in each other's company!" Ah! if more men were like my friend Ellis, and would make it their duty as well as the pleasure to devote more time to their homes and the comfort of their families, the bar-rooms, the billiard-rooms, and card-rooms would not be quite so well filled, and peace and happiness would reign where now are weariness and discontent, all for the want of the mutual dependence, which alone can make the home, be it ever so humble, a Heaven upon earth.—Christian Weekly.