er; "and so might you be, if father
thought it right."

"Would it hurt me, father?"

"I don't know that it would. It might, though; so I think you had better
not try. You must be patient, and remember what I've told you, that God
sends all these little trials. Do you understand me?"

"I think I do."

"I like to see my little daughter love God's house, but I like to see
her bear it patiently when she can't go there."

"I will try," said Nannie, while she kept saying "No!" to the tears as
fast as they came. Every little while, however, one wouldn't mind, and
would jump over the edge and run down. But she kept on saying, "Be
patient, be patient;" and at last the tears got tired of coming, and
troubled her no more. She had pulled up an ugly weed called "Impatience"
that morning.

Soon after, Jack came in with his empty basket.

"Well, Nannie, I wish I were in your place--not obliged to go to church,
and not sick enough to lose your dinner. I always go to church, for
fear, if I'm sick, father'll say, 'Turkey isn't good for headache.' I
never thought of such a convenient excuse as spraining my ankle. Let me
hear how you did it. It's too late to try it now, but it may do the next
time."

"O Jack, how you do talk! I'm so glad you're better than you talk."

"How do you know that, Miss Nannie?"

"Why, everybody knows it. This morning you laughed at me; but as soon as
you found out I was really hurt, you drew me and that big basket too on
your barrow. You're so kind."

Jack whistled a tune and kicked the fire-irons, because he didn't want
Nannie to see the tears that started. He was too much of a boy to let
them do anything but start.

"Jack," Nannie began, after a pause, "why don't you like to go to church?"
She was saying to herself all the time, _"In the courts of the Lord's
house, in the midst of thee, O Jerusalem."_

"Oh, I don't know; I should like it well enough if father would let me
sit up with the rest of the boys in the gallery."

"But you wouldn't do as they do in church, Jack?"

"Why not?"

"It's God's house," said Nannie softly. Jack sat silent for a long time,
while Nannie lay looking into the fire, and whispering all the time to
herself, "Be patient, be patient."

That afternoon, as father, mother, and children were engaged beside her,
Nannie lay on her couch and looked on; but she did not need to say, "Be
patient, be patient," for she was patient; and when her father, stopping
for a moment,