"HELP SALLY TO COUNT FORTY."
By Bombay Guardian
UNCLE ICHABOD C. lived in one of the New England States, and was an active, earnest, praying man, who had quite a notable way of speaking his mind upon all needed occasions. He was at a church meeting one day, where the members of the church were all expected to be present and to make some statement of their personal experiences and their religious state. "Sister Sally," a maiden lady of uncertain age, was a member of the church, who used to earn her living by spinning stocking yarn for the neighbors, for which she was paid so much per knot, a knot being—as some of our old lady readers know, and as some of our young lady readers are not likely to know—a thread of yarn long enough to go forty times around the reel, and which was then knotted, or tied around with a thread to keep it separate from the rest. Mysteriously, Sally's knots of yarn were said to be very liable to lack the requisite number of threads, when counted, and this kind of mistake, it was said, occurred too frequently, and was too commonly in the spinster's favor to escape the remarks of those who were deficient in charity. The church meeting referred to progressed, till at length Sister Sally's turn came, and she proceeded to relate the story of her sorrows and trials, which, unhappily, were very numerous. She confessed she did not make the progress she desired, and had many temptations and trials, and went through an ordinary and commonplace acknowledgment of sins, and desire for the sympathies and prayers of Christian brethren, when the monotony was broken by the ringing voice of Uncle Ichabod, saying:— "Lord, help Sister Sally to count forty!" The effect of this prayer must be imagined; it may reasonably be concluded, however, that if it was answered, some of Sister Sally's troubles and trials would diminish just in proportion as her threads of yarn increased in number, till they reached the legal standard of an honest woman's work. Uncle Ichabod is dead, but when listening to the dreary platitudes of persons who bewail their sins, and still hide and persist in little cheating tricks and petty meannesses, we are reminded of his pointed prayer, and feel as if they need some one to pray the Lord to help them "to count forty," or fifty, or a hundred, as the case may be, or to do an honest day's work, or measure an honest bushel of corn, or an honest yard of cloth, or pack an honest barrel of apples, or tub of butter; and we really think that a little help from the Lord about counting, reckoning, measuring, weighing, trading, and working would do more toward driving away "temptations and trials and dark hours" from many minds than a good deal of the whining and mourning which are not attended by fruits meet for repentance.—Bombay Guardian.