The graceful figure or Our Lady at once suggested the ethereal and
celestial. The long mantle, which fell in folds to her feet, signified
her modesty and motherly protection; the meekly folded hands were a
silent exhortation to humility and prayer; the tender, spiritual face
invited confidence and love; the crown upon her brow proclaimed her
sovereignty above all creatures and her incomparable dignity as Mother
of God.

"And is this beautiful statue really ours--just Larry's and mine?"
asked Abby.

"So the messenger says," returned Mrs. Clayton.

"Who could have sent it, I wonder?" inquired Larry.

The Italian pointed to the card attached to the basket. Abby took it
off and read:

"To my little friends, Abby and Larry Clayton, with the hope that,
especially during this month, they will try every day to do some little
thing to honor our Blessed Mother.

"FATHER DOMINIC."

"From Father Dominic!" exclaimed the boy, in delight.

"How very good of him!" added Abby, gratefully.

Father Dominic--generally so called because his musical Italian surname
was a stumbling-block to our unwieldy English speech--was a particular
friend of Mr. and Mrs. Clayton, who appreciated his culture and
refinement, and admired his noble character and devotion to his
priestly duties. He was an occasional visitor at their house, and took
a great interest in the children.

"How nice of him to send us something we shall always have!" Abby ran
on. "Now I can give the tiny image in my room to some one who hasn't
any."

"May we make an altar for our statue, mother?" asked Larry.

Although as a rule a lively, rollicking boy, when it came to anything
connected with his prayers, he was unaffectedly and almost comically
solemn about it.

"Yes," responded Mrs. Clayton. "And I think it would be a good plan
also to frame the card and hang it on the front of the altar, so that
you may not forget Father Dominic's words: 'Try every day to do some
little thing to honor our Blessed Mother.'"

II.

"O mother!" cried Abby, the day after the arrival of the unique
May-basket from Father Dominic, "now that we have such a lovely statue
of the Blessed Virgin, don't you think we ought to make a regular
altary."

"A what!" exclaimed Mrs. Clayton, at a loss to understand what her
little daughter could possibly mean. "I told you that you might have
an altar, dear. And you may arrange it whenever you please."

"No, but an altary," pers