ill whilst her mamma was reading, then she got
up, and ran across the attic.

"Here are my snowdrops," she said, with a cry of joy, as she caught
sight of them in the window-sill. "Do you like them, Master Treffy?"

"Ay! little missie," said the old man, "I do indeed, and me and Christie
always think of the little prayer when we look at them."

"Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow," repeated Mabel reverently.
"Has He washed you, Master Treffy?"

"Yes, missie," said Treffy, "I believe He has."

"I'm so glad," said little Mabel, "then you _will_ go to 'Home, sweet
Home;' won't he, mamma?"

"Yes," said her mother, "Treffy and Christie have found the only road
which leads home. And, oh!" she said, the color coming into her sweet
face, "what a happy day it will be when we all meet at home! Wouldn't
you like to see Jesus, Treffy?" asked the lady.

"Ay," said old Treffy, "it would be a good sight to see His blessed
face. I could almost sing for joy when I think of it, and I haven't so
very long to wait."

"No," said the lady, with a wistful expression in her eyes, "I could
almost change places with you, Treffy, I could almost wish I were as
near to 'Home, sweet Home.' But that would be selfish," she said
brightly, as she rose to go.

But little Mabel had discovered the old organ, and was in no haste to
depart. She must turn it "just a little bit." In former days, old Treffy
would have been seriously agitated and distressed at the idea of the
handle of his dear old organ being turned by a little girl of six years
old. Even now he felt a small amount of anxiety when she proposed it.
But his fears vanished when he saw the careful, deliberate way in which
Mabel went to work. The old organ was perfectly safe in her hands. And,
to Mabel's joy, the first tune which came was "Home, sweet Home." Very
sweetly it sounded in old Treffy's ears. He was thinking of no earthly
home, but of "the city bright," where he hoped soon to be. And the lady
was thinking of it too.

When the tune was finished, they took their leave, and Christie looked
out of the window, and watched them crossing the dirty court, and
entering the carriage which was waiting for them in the street.

It had been a very bright week for Christie and for old Treffy.

And then Sunday came, and another service in the little mission room.
Christie was there in good time, and the clergyman gave him a pleasant
smile as he came into the room.

It was the third