er for her little author lady.

But while the nurse was making her ready for the night, a sudden thought
came to her, and holding up the slender finger on which gleamed her
birthday ring, one of her most prized possessions, she asked, "How much
do rings cost, Miss Keith?"

"Rings like yours?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not much of a judge of jewelry, but I should say that was
worth maybe ten or fifteen dollars. That stone looks like a real ruby."

"'Tis a real ruby, though 'tain't very big."

"I never owned but one ring in my life, and that was a plain band. I
don't know anything about precious stones, but no doubt your ring cost a
pretty penny."

When she had gone on to her next charge, Peace sat warily up in bed,
snatched paper and pencil from the stand close by and scribbled a brief
and hurried note, which read:

"Deer Bishup,--I can't be at church Sunday when you take up a
subscription to build some more Danbury Hospittle, cause I am in the
hospittle myself, and I have spent all my money. Nurse says my ruby ring
which Grandpa gave me on my last birthday cost as much as 10 or 15
dolars; so I am sending my ring for your collection. You can sell it to
some honest jueler and give the Money to the hospittle. It has been worn
only a little while for my birthday was New Years, and I've been in the
hospittle ever since, so the ring is reely as good as new. I would sell
it myself if I could get out but I can't.
Yours truly,
PEACE GREENFIELD."

When the bishop rose to face the select and fashionable audience in the
South Avenue Church the following Sabbath Day, his heart misgave him.
What message could he bring to this people which would open their hearts
and pocketbooks to help in the Lord's great work? He had prepared a most
careful and elaborate sermon for the occasion, but as he stood looking
down into that sea of critical faces before him, he realized that here
was a people who needed a soul's awakening, and with a sudden
determination he cast aside his scholarly efforts, and drawing from his
pocket a hastily scrawled letter and a small, ruby ring, he told their
simple story so beautifully and so well that purse-strings, as well as
heart-strings, responded instantly, and the following day a telegram
reached Danbury Hospital which read, "Fifteen thousand dollars
subscribed at South Avenue Church. Thank God for our 'Peace which
passeth unders