ould that sweet, loving, true, unselfish life have told in God's
service. And he would have known it, though you and I--who are we?--had
never heard her name!

Forgotten! do not ever think that anything is forgotten!

LOVE IS THE WHOLE.

A STORY FOR CHILDREN.

This is a story about some children who were living together in a
Western State, in a little house on the prairie, nearly two miles from
any other. There were three boys and three girls; the oldest girl was
seventeen, and her oldest brother a year younger. Their mother had died
two or three years before, and now their father grew sick,--more sick
and more, and died also. The children were taking the best care they
could of him, wondering and watching. But no care could do much, and so
he told them. He told them all that he should not live long; but that
when he died he should not be far from them, and should be with their
dear mother. "Remember," he said, "to love each other. Be kind to each
other. Stick together, if you can. Or, if you separate, love one
another as if you were together." He did not say any more then. He lay
still awhile, with his eyes closed; but every now and then a sweet smile
swept over his face, so that they knew he was awake. Then he roused up
once more, and said, "Love is the whole, George; love is the
whole,"--and so he died.

I have no idea that the children, in the midst of their grief and
loneliness, took in his meaning. But afterwards they remembered it again
and again, and found out why he said it to them.

Any of you would have thought it a queer little house. It was not a log
cabin. They had not many logs there. But it was no larger than the log
cabin which General Grant is building in the picture. There was a little
entry-way at one end, and two rooms opening on the right as you went. A
flight of steps went up into the loft, and in the loft the boys slept in
two beds. This was all. But if they had no rooms for servants, on the
other hand they had no servants for rooms. If they had no hot-water
pipes, on the other hand a large kettle hung on the crane above the
kitchen fire, and there was but a very short period of any day that one
could not dip out hot water. They had no gas-pipes laid through the
house. But they went to bed the earlier, and were the more sure to enjoy
the luxury of the great morning illumination by the sun. They lost but
few steps in going from room to room. They were never troubled for want
of fres