d he told her about old Treffy, how ill he was, and how he had not
another month to live. The tears were in the lady's eyes, and she asked
Christie where he lived, and wrote it down on a white tablet which she
carried in her pocket.

"Mamma," said little Mabel, "I want to whisper something to you."

The lady bent down her head to listen, and then said kindly,--

"Yes, if you like."

Mabel darted into the house, and returned with a large bunch of single
white snowdrops, prettily arranged with sprigs of dark myrtle leaves.
Very white, and pure, and lovely they looked.

"Here, organ-boy," said Mabel, as she put them into his hands, "these
are my own dear snowdrops; Aunt Helen gave me them, and you must take
them to Master Treffy, he'll like them, won't he?" she said.

"Ay! that he will, missie," said Christie, warmly.

"Mabel," said her mother, "you must teach Christie the little prayer I
told you always to say when you looked at the snowdrops."

"Yes," said Mabel, "I will. This is it, Christie: 'Wash me, and I shall
be whiter than snow.'"

Christie looked up brightly.

"Will you say that prayer, Christie?" asked the lady, kindly.

"Yes, ma'am," said Christie; "it's just like what me and Master Treffy
said last night:--

'Cleanse me and save me,
Cleanse me and save me,
Wash all my sins away.'"

The lady smiled when Christie said this, and seemed very pleased.

"I am so glad you know of the only way to be washed white," said the
lady. "These snowdrops always make me think of the souls washed white in
the blood of Jesus."

Then the lady and little Mabel passed on, and Christie looked down very
tenderly on the flowers. How he _would_ love them now! He turned his
steps homewards at once, for he did not want the snowdrops to fade
before they reached old Treffy. How fair, and clean, and pure they
looked! So different to the smoke and dirt of the noisy court. Christie
was almost afraid lest the thick air might soil them as he carried them
through it. Some of the children ran after him and begged for a flower,
but he guarded his treasures very carefully till he reached the attic.

And when Christie opened the door, who should be there but the
clergyman, sitting beside old Treffy, and talking to him very earnestly!
He stopped to give Christie a kind word, and then he went on with what
he was saying. He was telling Treffy about the death of Jesus, and how
it is that the blood of Jesus can wash awa