autiful shawl, Miss May! it 'minds me so of the bright swamp flowers
in old Ca'lina, that it takes me clean back thar. I had good times
then, honey; but I can't say nuffin. I feel it all here, and I hope
your heavenly Father will make it out, and pay you back ten thousand
times," said old Mabel, laying her shrivelled hand on her heart.

"_Your_ Father and God too, Aunt Mabel," said May, leaning towards her,
and lifting her sunshiny face close to hers.

"No, missis; I ain't good enough. He don't think of the likes of me."

"Oh, Aunt Mabel, you must not say that. You are his creature, and from
him proceeded your life and soul: for you, as well as me, his divine
Son died that we might inherit eternal life. _He_ knows no distinction
in the distribution of his divine charity; the humblest slave, and the
most powerful king, are alike the objects of his tender solicitude.
And if I, a poor frail child of earth, pity and love you in your low
estate, how much more does He, the sweet and merciful Jesus, regard
with tender compassion the soul for whose salvation he has shed his
precious blood."

"Do _your_ religion teach the same to every body, honey; or is you only
sayin' so of your own 'cord?" inquired old Mabel, wistfully.

"Our holy religion teaches it to all. Into her safe and ancient fold
she invites all; and when we know that this fold is the kingdom
established on earth by Jesus Christ himself, how we ought to fly, and
never rest until we are gathered in. In this divine faith we are
taught to 'love one another,' without regard to race, color, or nation,
and bring forth fruits unto righteousness; which, if we fail to do, we
disobey,--we bring scandal on it, and the love of God is not in us,"
said May, earnestly.

"Fruits unto righteousness, which mean good works, I reckon, honey!"
said the old creature, musingly. "Well, I dunno, but it _do_ seem like
'tinkling cymbals,' and 'sounding brass' to go preaching the gospel to
poor sufferin' folks like me, and telling of 'em to be patient and
resigned, and suffer the will of Heaven, and all that, if they don't
give the naked clothes to cover 'em, and the hungry food to nourish
'em, and to the frozen fire to warm 'em. I tell you what, Miss May,
such religion aint no 'count it 'pears to me, and jest minds me of a
apple-tree used to grow in ole mass'r's garden; it would get its leaf
and blossom; like the rest on 'em, but never a sign of apple did it
bear; so one day ole