ough the sky;
Glory, glory, glory, glory,
Glory to the Father give,
Glory, glory, glory, glory,
Sing his praises all that live."

Mrs. Mathieson's heart gave way. She sat down on the lowest step and
cried, for very soreness of heart. But work must be done; and when the
song had ceased, for it went on some time, Mrs. Mathieson wiped her
tears with her apron and called, "Nettie!"

"Yes, mother. Coming."

"Fetch down your school-cloak, child."

She went back to her room, and presently Nettie came in with the cloak,
looking placid as usual, but very pale.

"Are you singing up there to keep yourself warm, child?"

"Well, mother, I don't know but it does," Nettie answered, smiling. "My
garret did seem to me full of glory just now; and it often does,
mother."

"The Lord save us!" exclaimed Mrs. Mathieson, bursting into tears again.
"I believe you're in a way to be going above, before my face!"

"Now, mother, what sort of a way is that of talking?" said Nettie,
looking troubled. "You know I can't die till Jesus bids me; and I don't
think he is going to take me now. What did you want me to do?"

"Nothing. You aint fit. I must go and do it myself."

"Yes I am fit. I like to do it," said Nettie. "What is it, mother?"

"Somebody's got to go to Mr. Jackson's--but you aint fit, child; you eat
next to none at noon. You can't live on porridge."

"I like it, mother; but I wasn't hungry. What's wanting from Jackson's?"

Nettie put on her cloak, and took her basket and went out. It was after
sundown already, and a keen wind swept through the village street, and
swept through Nettie's brown cloak too, tight as she wrapped it about
her. But though she was cold and blue, and the wind seemed to go through
_her_ as well as the cloak, Nettie was thinking of something else. She
knew that her mother had eaten a very scanty, poor sort of dinner, as
well as herself, and that _she_ often looked pale and wan; and Nettie
was almost ready to wish she had not given the last penny of her
shilling, on Sunday, to the missionary-box. When her father had given
her the coin, she had meant then to keep it to buy something now and
then for her mother; but it was not immediately needed, and one by one
the pennies had gone to buy tracts, or as a mite to the fund for sending
Bibles or missionaries to those who did not know how to sing Nettie's
song of "glory."

She wondered to herself now if she had done quite right; she c