ervice at church. The two old men were engaged in discussion, and the
children talked earnestly about the church, the minister, the people,
and the music, all of which were new to Gerty, and greatly excited her
wonder.

As they drew near home, Willie remarked how dark it was growing in the
streets; and then, looking down at Gerty, whom he held by the hand, he
said, "Gerty, do you ever go out with Uncle True, and see him light the
lamps?"

"No, I never did," said Gerty, "since the first night I came. I've
wanted, but it's been so cold, he would not let me; he said I'd have the
fever again."

"It won't be cold this evening," said Willie; "it'll be a beautiful
night; and, if Uncle True's willing, we will go with him. I've often
been; you can look into the windows and see folks drinking tea, and
sitting round the fire in their parlours."

"And I like to see him light those great lamps," said Gerty; "they make
it look so bright and beautiful all around. I hope he'll let us go; I'll
ask him; come," said she, pulling him by the hand.

"No--wait," said Willie; "he's busy talking with grandpa--we can ask him
at home."

As soon as they reached the gate she broke away from him, and, rushing
up to True, made known her request. He readily consented, and the three
soon started on the rounds.

For a time Gerty's attention was so engrossed by the lamplighting that
she could see and enjoy nothing else. But when they reached the corner
of the street, and came in sight of a large apothecary's shop, her
delight knew no bounds. The brilliant colours displayed in the windows
captivated her fancy; and when Willie told her that his master's shop
was similar she thought it must be a fine place to spend one's life in.
Then she wondered why this was open on Sunday, when all the other stores
were closed, and Willie, stopping to explain, they found that True was
some distance in advance. He hurried Gerty along, telling her that they
were now in the finest street they should pass through, and they must
haste, for they had nearly reached the house he most wanted her to see.
When they came up with True, he was placing his ladder against a post
opposite a fine block of buildings. Many of the front windows were
shaded, so that the children could not see in; but some had no curtains,
or they had not yet been drawn. In one parlour there was a pleasant
wood-fire, around which a group were gathered; and here Gerty would fain
have lingered. In anoth