tantly at the child.

"May I sit close to you, so we can both look over it together?" she
said, as she pushed a chair to his side and worked herself up on to it.

The illustrations were generally from Old Testament scenes; but Elsa
hurried past these, turning the pages briskly with her skilful fingers.

"Here it is! Here's the one I like best. You understand it, don't you?
It means something," and she looked up questioningly into his face.

The picture was a most admirable representation of the Good Shepherd
bearing a lost lamb home on His shoulders.

Johanson was silent.

"You don't know about it, then? I will tell you," she said, and went on,
while her tiny finger was impressively pointing from lamb to shepherd,
and from shepherd to lamb.

"That little lamb got far away from the shepherd and the fold and all
the little lambs he knew. And he was dirty, not a bit clean, and his
wool was all torn by the briers, and the thorns had hurt him, and he was
hungry and thirsty and tired, and did not know where to go. He could
hear the wolves growl, and he thought he could see their eyes looking at
him as if they wanted to eat him up. You see he had run away, just gone
away from the Good Shepherd and his mother and his home, when he did
not need to. And now he wanted to get back, but he didn't know how; and
then he began to complain and to bleat (that's his way of crying), and
to run this way and that, but he didn't get on at all.

"At last he was quite tired out, and he thought he must give up and lie
down and die where he was. Then the Good Shepherd heard his cry and came
to him. The poor little lamb wanted to follow the Shepherd; but he was
too weak--he could hardly stand alone. And then"--and here the little
voice grew triumphantly glad--"then the Good Shepherd took him in His
own arms, just as sweet and kind as if the naughty lamb had never run
away, and carried him over the stones, and past the briers, and across
the little streams, and up the steep hills, and through the dark places!
He carried him _all the way_ home, not just half-way and then let him
drop. He carried him _all the way home_ to the fold, where his mother
was, and there he was safe--safe--safe! Wasn't that a Good Shepherd?"

There was no answer.

"My mother told me all about it, and I like that picture best and that
story best. You understand what it means?"

"Yes," said Johanson. There were tears in his eyes.

Elsa lifted up her loving hand to