nning up on seeing her beckoning.
"The minister is sair ill, and ye'll be good and quiet, and listen to
what he says to you, he is ganging awa on a long long journey, and ye'll
promise to do what he'll tell you till ye are called to the same place
he'll reach ere lang."

Something in her tone struck Margaret, who took her hand, and looking up
into her face burst into tears. She already knew what death was.
Donald, the eldest boy, had lingered a short distance behind.

David, seeing Margaret's tears, with a startled, anxious look, took
Janet's other hand. "Is father ganging to heaven?" he asked, as they
got close to the house, showing how his mind had been occupied as they
came along.

"I am sure of it, and it is a happy, happy place," was the answer.
"Ye'll speak gently, Donald," she said, turning round to the eldest boy,
who, ignorant of his father's state, might not, she feared, restrain his
exuberant spirits.

There was no need of the caution, for the minister's altered look struck
even Donald with awe. Janet led the children up to the bedside. The
dying father stretched out his hands, and placed them on their heads, as
they clustered up to him, while his already dim eyes turned a fond
glance at their young fresh faces. "You will listen to Janet when I am
away, and pray God to help you to meet me in heaven. Make His word your
guide, and you cannot mistake the road."

"I will try to mind that, and tell Donald and David, too," was all that
Margaret could answer.

"Canna ye stay longer with us, father?" asked Donald, touching the
minister's hand, as he was wont to do when speaking to him.

"He we should all obey has called me," said Mr Morrison. "May He bless
you, and guard and keep you. Bless you! bless you!" His voice was
becoming fainter and fainter, and so he died, with his hands on his
children's heads, his loving eyes on their cherub faces.

"Blessed are they who die in the Lord," said Janet, as she observed the
smile which seemed to rest on the minister's features. Taking the
children, scarcely yet conscious of what had occurred, she led them from
the room, and then stepped back to close the eyes of the dead.

Having put the sobbing orphans to bed, she hastened out to obtain the
assistance of a neighbour in preparing the body for burial. She
insisted on paying the woman for the office she had performed,
remarking, as she did so, "I have the charge of the manse and the bairns
till the ministe