s heart, the following song:

The Lord of all things,
With liberalitee,
Maketh the small birds,
To sing on every tree.

The Lord of all things,
He maketh also me;
Giveth me no wings,
Giveth me no words.

When Mr. Jeminy had sung as much as he liked, he went on to say: "In
autumn the birds go south by easy stages; to-day their songs are
departed from these woods, where there is none left but the catbird, to
creak upon the bough. Soon snow will cover the earth, in which nothing
is growing. But you, happy song birds, will build your nests far away,
in green and windy trees, and your quarrels will fill distant valleys
with music."

When Mr. Jeminy was nearly home he looked behind him and saw Thomas
Frye and Anna Barly returning from the fair. He drew aside to let them
pass, and with the sun shining in his eyes, he thought to himself,
"Only the young are happy to-day."

VIII

THE TURN OF THE YEAR

A fortnight later, the dress-maker was called in haste to Barly Farm,
to sew coarse and fine linen, and a dress for Anna to be married in.
But it all had to be done within the week, towels, sheets,
pillow-cases, table-cloths, and aprons. "More than a body could sew in
a month," she declared. For Anna was going to have a baby. "Do what
you can," said Mrs. Barly, "and we'll have to get along with that."
And so we find Miss Beal at the farm by eight each morning, wishing the
day were longer, to enable her tongue to catch up to her fingers; for
she thought that she knew a thing or two, and could see what was
directly in front of her nose. "I'm nobody's fool," she said, as she
guided the cloth, snapped the thread, and rocked the treadle of the
sewing machine; and she sang to herself from morning to evening. As
the only songs she knew were from the hymnal, she sang, with a heart
overflowing with praise:

Ah how shall fallen man
Be just before his God?
If He contend in righteousness,
We sink beneath His rod. Amen.

or again:

Who place on Sion's God their trust
Like Sion's rock shall stand,
Like her immovable be fixed
By His almighty hand. Amen.

She was happy; it seemed to her that God, to whom she lifted up her
prayers, was wise and active, watching every sparrow. She was
satisfied that young folks were no better off than in her own day, but
might expect to find themselves, if they fell from grace, as wretched
as in the past. When Sara Barly had made the dress-make