a house dug right out of the side of a hill. She had lived in
such a little bit of a house herself for a great many weeks. Poor as
these people were, they had built a little church, and were trying
very hard to pay for it. They had not any singing-books nor Bibles
for their Sunday-school, nor any library-books; but the children
thought nothing of walking five miles or more to go to Sunday-school.

What would the children here in this lovely room give for those
children in the far, far West?

It happened that Ida's teacher had lately talked to her class about
the meanness of giving to the Lord that which it cost them nothing to
give. So when the collection-box was passed around, they dropped in
their pennies and silver-pieces, and those who had nothing with them
were told to bring their share on the next Sunday. And some of them
began to plan their little sacrifices.

Ida's dusky face was a study. Once or twice she paused, irresolute.
At last, when school was over, she whispered;

"Teacher, may I stay a moment?"

"Yes, dear," said Miss Raymond.

When the two were by themselves in the little half-circle where their
class usually sat, Ida, with trembling hands, untied the beloved
sash, and, laying it on her teacher's lap, said, "Please, Miss
Raymond, this is the prettiest thing I've got, and I want to send it
to the children who haven't any Bibles."

"But the sash will do them no good, Ida."

"The worf of it will," replied the child; "and it's worf free
dollars, any way; mammy said so."

Ida stooped down and kissed it; it was not giving what cost her
nothing to part with her treasured ribbon.

Mass Raymond took it with a tender look, rolled it up and carried it
home.

One evening, in her parlor, she told its story to a party of young
people, and then remarked: "The sash ought to bring more than three
dollars, when that little black girl gave it up so cheerfully."

In a few moments there lay a little pile of silver and paper on the
centre table, and Ida's sash had brought eight dollars for the good
cause. Before the week was over it had gone from hand to hand, and
the eight dollars became twenty without much difficulty.

Fanny said she thought we ought to send the sash back to Ida, or give
her another one; but no, that would have taken the sweetness from her
self-denial.

She came to school without her ribbon, having been scolded by Aunt
Chloe, who could not understand her action, and thought it great
fol