soft breeze, and
the birds is a-singin', and Tom's mother stops to pick some wild roses.
And the little white meetin' house with the steeple a-p'intin' straight
up. My Rosa, I wish you could see it, and with vines a-growin' all over
it! I can 'most git it, then it slips away ag'in. If I could jest be
inside of that meetin' house once more, it would all come straight, I
know, fer there they used to talk and sing about that land and Jesus."

"Yes, grandpa, you know it was Jesus that paid the fare. Wasn't He kind
to do that? 'cause if He hadn't poor folks couldn't go."

"Yes, mighty kind, mighty kind!

"Rosa," after a pause, "come real close," and the faded eyes sparkled
with a new thought; "I want to whisper somethin' so nobody'll hear. The
very first day Sary's away, let's start out, and mebbe we can find some
one to tell us how to go. Will you, child?"

"Oh, yes, grandpa, good! then we'll find mother."

In her delight she clapped her hands for very joy.

"Sh! sh! child, Sary might hear, and that would spoil it all, though of
course Sary's a good woman, yes, a very good woman. You won't tell, will
you?"

"No, no, grandpa, this'll be our secret. I'm just sure there must be
lots of folks that can tell us, for the fare is paid for everybody, and
they're going all the time. But I do wish we could find that pretty lady
again I saw on the car."

"Yes, dearie, I wish so too, but I think we'll find it anyhow. I'm
a-gittin' so very homesick, we jest must."

"Sing about that land, won't you, grandpa?"

"All right, you git the fiddle. That's the only song I can remember.
They used to sing it in the little white meetin' house with the steeple
a-p'intin' straight up. Wish I could remember more, but I can't."

In a quavery voice he sang many times over the grand old hymn:

"I will sing you a song of that beautiful land,
The far away home of the soul,
Where no storms ever beat on that glittering strand,
While the years of eternity roll.

Oh, that home of the soul in my visions and dreams,
Its bright, jasper walls I can see,
Till I fancy but thinly the vail intervenes
Between that fair city and me!

That unchangeable home is for you and for me,
Where Jesus of Nazareth stands;
The King of all kingdoms forever is He,
And He holdeth our crowns in His hands.

Oh, how sweet it will be in that beautiful land,
So free from all sorrow and pain,
With songs on our l