oots than from his lips. But Joy was a
delighted listener. Then she followed with one of Mrs. Alexander's
"hymns for little children," and as she sang, in her sweet childish
treble, the words seemed to speak peace.

"On the dark hill's western side
The last purple gleam has died;
Twilight to one solemn hue
Changes all, both green and blue.

"In the fold and in the nest,
Birds and lambs are gone to rest;
Labour's weary task is o'er,
Closely shut the cottage door.

"Saviour, now in sweet repose
I my weary eyelids close,
While my mother through the gloom
Singeth from the outer room."

Joy paused, and putting her little hand in Mrs. Harrison's, said--

"I have never any mother but you, dear Goody; and I know she must be
glad I've got you, as God took her away from me."

It was very seldom that Joy referred to her position in Uncle Bobo's
house, and indeed very seldom that she thought of it. She had been
told that she had been laid at Uncle Bobo's door as a Christmas gift,
and that had been enough for her. But since she had been to Miss
Bayliff's school there had arisen a question in her little mind as to
why she had never known either father or mother--a question no one
could answer.

The bell ringing again more violently than before made Mrs. Harrison
hasten away, and she had just gone when the clock struck six.

"I should like to take Bet home, Uncle Bobo. That will be such a nice
end to our feast. Will you come?"

Uncle Bobo was not fond of walking, but he never liked to refuse Joy
anything, and very soon he might be seen toddling along the row, with
his short, stout legs, and rosy apple face, singing out a cheery
"Good-evening" to such neighbours as were about, and taking Joy's
little hand in his, while she danced at his side. Presently she let go
her hold on Uncle Bobo's hand, and said in a low voice--

"I think I'd better walk with poor Bet, Uncle Bobo. She looks so sad
walking behind us."

"So do, my Joy, so do. You've a kind little heart, and may no one ever
say a cross word to you, or do an unkind action."

Joy fell back with a radiant smile, and, putting her hand into Bet's
arm, drew her on in front.

CHAPTER VI.

_A VISIT TO THE SKINNERS._

Mr. Skinner was very like his mother. No one could mistake that they
bore this relationship.

Some old age is lovely--radiant with the chastened light of eventide.
Mrs. Skinner's was certainly unlovely. Tall