g,--only another month, Miss Mabel, and I shall have no home then."

"Poor organ-boy,--poor Christie!" said little Mabel, in a pitying voice.

Charlie had taken the handle of the organ now, and was rejoicing in
"Poor Mary Ann;" but Mabel hardly listened to him; she was thinking of
the poor boy who had no home but an attic, and who soon would have no
home at all.

"There's another home somewhere," said Christie, "isn't there, missie?
Isn't heaven some sort of a home?"

"Oh, yes, there's heaven," said little Mabel, brightly; "you'll have a
home _there_, won't you, organ-boy?"

"Where is heaven?" said Christie.

"It's up there," said little Mabel, pointing up to the sky; "up so high,
Christie. The little stars live in heaven; I used to think they were the
angels' eyes, but nurse says it's silly to think that."

"I like the stars," said Christie.

"Yes," said Mabel, "so do I; and you'll see them all when you go to
heaven, Christie, I'm sure you will."

"What is heaven like, Miss Mabel?" asked Christie.

"Oh, it's so nice," said little Mabel; "they have white dresses on, and
the streets are all gold, Christie, all gold and shining. And Jesus is
there, Christie; wouldn't you like to see Jesus?" she added, in a
whisper.

"I don't know," said Christie, in a bewildered tone; "I don't know much
about Him."

"Don't you love Jesus, Christie?" said Mabel, with a very grave,
sorrowful face, and with tears in her large brown eyes, "Oh, organ-boy,
don't you love Jesus?"

"No," said Christie; "I know so little about Him, Miss Mabel."

"But you can't go to heaven if you don't love Jesus, Christie. Oh! I'm
so sorry,--you won't have a home at all; what _will_ you do?" and the
tears ran down little Mabel's cheeks.

But just then the bell rang for dinner, and nurse's voice called the
children in.

Christie walked on very thoughtfully. He was thinking of little Mabel's
words, and of little Mabel's tears. "You can't go to heaven if you don't
love Jesus," she had said; "and then you won't have a home at all." It
was a new thought for Christie, and a very sad thought. What if he
should never, never know anything of "Home, sweet Home"? And then came
the remembrance of poor old Treffy, his dear old master, who had only
another month to live. Did he love Jesus? He had never heard old Treffy
mention His name; and what if Treffy should die, and never go to heaven
at all, but go to the other place! Christie had heard of hell; he di