was one man
who had lost five little children by death. That death had come in
consequence of dirt and ignorance made it no easier to bear. The dirt and
ignorance had not all been his fault. People who were wiser and had not
cared to help were to blame. What was the remedy for the world's sorrow,
the world's need?

Ruth knew in a general way that Jesus Christ was the Saviour of the
world, that His name should be the remedy for evil; but how to put it to
them in simple form, ah! that was it. It was Cameron's search for God,
and it seemed that all the world was on the same search. But now to-day
she had suddenly come on some of the footprints of the Man of Sorrow as
He toiled over the mountains of earth searching for lost humanity, and
her own heart echoed His love and sorrow for the world. She cried out in
her helplessness for something to give to these wistful people.

Somehow the prayer must have been answered, for the little congregation
hung upon her words, and one old man with deep creases in his forehead
and kindly wrinkles around his eyes spoke out in meeting and said:

"I like God. I like Him good. I like Him all e time wi' mee! All e time.
Ev'e where! Him live in my house!"

The tears sprang to her eyes with answering sympathy. Here in her little
mission she had found a brother soul, seeking after God. She had another
swift vision then of what the kinship of the whole world meant, and how
Christ could love everybody.

After Sunday school was out little Sanda came stealing up to her:

"Mine brudder die," she said sorrowfully.

"What? Tony? The pretty fat baby? Oh, I'm so sorry!" said Ruth putting
her arm tenderly around the little girl. "Where is your mother? I must go
and see her."

Down the winding unkept road they walked, the delicately reared girl and
the little Italian drudge, to the hovel where the family were housed, a
tumbled-down affair of ancient stone, tawdrily washed over in some season
past with scaling pink whitewash. The noisy abode of the family pig was
in front of the house in the midst of a trim little garden of cabbage,
lettuce, garlic, and tomatoes. But the dirty swarming little house
usually so full of noise and good cheer was tidy to-day, and no guests
hovered on the brief front stoop sipping from a friendly bottle, or
playing the accordion. There was not an accordion heard in the community,
for there had been a funeral that morning and every one was trying to be
quiet out of respe