er face close to hers, and whispered, "Mother, mother, don't
cry--God will take care of Maurice; he won't let him die."

"I think sometimes that he will, he is so like poor father, and he seems
so delicate and weakly, and I have no means of getting him the
strengthening things he needs."

"But, mother, he is better than he was."

"Not much, dear; he has never got over that illness, and sometimes I
think that he will not live much longer; but I cannot let him go--my
boy--my youngest--my little Maurice."

"Mother, we will pray to God to make him well; and you say God always
hears us when we pray."

"Yes, dear, yes, he does; pray to him, dear Nellie; we will all pray to
him to spare little Maurice."

The mother and daughter had not perceived that Mr. Smith had entered the
room, and was standing opposite to them.

"What's the matter, eh? what's the matter?" said the old man, as Ellen
looked up, and he caught sight of the tears on her cheeks. Mrs. Shipton
got up quickly and hurried out of the room; and Ellen dried her eyes,
and busied herself in putting the work away.

Just then Janet came in with Maurice, and they eagerly claimed a story
from Mr. Smith. The old man looked earnestly at them for a minute, and
then said, "I don't know any story to-night, little ones."

"Then tell us something about the country," said Maurice.

"You should see a corn-field, children; that's the sight," said Mr.
Smith. "Oh, how you'd like to see them binding up the sheaves, and how
quickly the sickles cut down the ripe grain!"

"But don't the men cut down beautiful flowers at the same time?" said
Janet. "Father used to tell us about the flowers."

The old man was silent for a moment, and then said quickly,
"Flowers--ah! poor children, you don't know what flowers are here, in
your smoky, dirty town."

"What kind of flowers grow in the country?" said Ellen.

"Why, there's primroses, and violets, and roses, and honeysuckle, and
poppies, and a hundred things."

"Well, we've got flowers in the town too," said Janet.

"Indeed," said Mr. Smith incredulously. "I haven't discovered them yet,
except a few things, stunted and withered, and all boxed up in smoky
gardens."

Janet smiled to herself, and determined that she would show the country
stranger the truth of her words.

The next day was Sunday, and Mr. Smith went to the nearest church with
Ellen and Janet, while Mrs. Shipton stayed at home with Maurice.

Janet did not return w