No, for as yet I know not how I can earn a dollar; but, if you will
be patient, I promise to work hard for you and Stanley."

"I will be good. Salome, I have saved a quarter of a dollar that the
doctor gave me when I was sick,--because I let the blister stay on my
side a half hour longer; and I thought I would send it to Buddie, to
buy him some marbles or a kite; but I reckon I had better give it to
you to help us get a house."

She drew from her pocket a green calico bag, and, emptying the
contents into her hand, picked out from among brass buttons and bits
of broken glass a silver coin, which she held up triumphantly.

"No, Jessie,--keep it. Stanley has plenty of playthings, and you may
need it. Besides, your quarter would not go far, and I don't want it.
Good-bye, little darling. Try to give Mrs. Collins no trouble, and
recollect that when I promise you anything I shall be sure to keep my
word."

Salome drew the child's head to her shoulder, and, as she bent over
and kissed the sweet, pure lips, Jessie whispered, "When we say our
prayers to-night, we will ask God to send us some money to buy a home,
won't we? You know he made the birds feed Elijah."

"But we are not prophets, and ravens are not flying about with bags of
money under their wings."

"We do not know what God can do, and if we are only good, He is as
much bound to take care of us as of Elijah. He made the sky rain manna
and partridges for the starving people in the desert, and He is as
much our God as if we came out from Egypt under Moses. I know God will
help us, if we ask Him. I am sure of it; for last week I lost Mrs.
Collins' bunch of keys, and, when I could not find them anywhere, I
prayed to God to help me, and, sure enough, I remembered I left them
in the dairy where I was churning."

Jessie's countenance was radiant with hope and faith, which her sister
could not share, yet felt unwilling to destroy; and, checking the
heavy sigh that rose from her oppressed heart, she hastily quitted the
house.

In the midst of confused and perturbed reflections, rose like some
lonely rock-based beacon in boiling waves her sacred promise to the
trusting child, and ingenuity was racked to devise some means for its
prompt fulfilment. Consanguinity began to urge its claim vehemently,
and long dormant tenderness pleaded piteously for exiled idols.

"If I were only a Christian, like Dr. Grey! His faith, like strong
wings, bears him high above all sloughs of