?'

"'At my sin, ye see.'

"'What do you mean?'

"'Well, sir, if I could only have peace of mind! But I work on from
Monday morn to Saturday night, and I never hear or see anything good;
and when Sunday comes, I can't go out; I haven't any bonnet for my head,
or any dress fit for a dacent church. I just walk the floor, and I don't
dare to think of ever meeting God."

"'Are you a Catholic?'

"'Yes, sir; I was brought up one, and so was my husband, but now it's
little we know, as they say, of mass, meeting, or church; we ain't
neither Catholics or Protestants; I might as well be a haythen. We
haven't any books, nor a prayer-book, or anything. I know it, sir, we
ought to pray," she continued, "but I kneel down sometimes, and I get up
and say to my husband, 'It's no use my praying, I am too much
distracted.' If I could only get some good to my soul, for I think of
dying often, and I see I should not be at all ready. _Life is a burden
to me._' I spoke of the hopes and consolations which can come to poor as
well as rich, and of her children. 'Yes, sir; no one can tell the
patience of the Lord. How much He has borne from me! Oh, if I could only
have peace of mind, and see those children getting on well, I should be
glad to die. That little girl cries every time we send her out to beg,
and she's learning nothing good. But I am afraid nothing will ever come
lucky to us; and oh, sir, if you could have seen how we started in
Ireland, and what a home my mother had; she was a very different woman
from what I am.'

"We spoke of her attending the mission meeting in Fortieth Street, and
reading a Testament given by us. She seemed glad to do both.

"'Oh, sir, if I could only feel that friendship with God you spoke of, I
shouldn't care; I could bear anything; but to work as we are doing, and
to have such trouble, and see the poor wee thing grow thinner and
poorer, and my man almost down broken, and then to get no nearer--no, we
keep getting farther from the Lord! Oh, if I was only ready to die! I
haven't nothing in this world.'

"Let us hope that the peace-giving words of Christ, the love of the
Redeemer, may at length plant in that poor, weary discouraged soul the
seeds of hope and immortal faith, even as they have done in so many
thousands weary and heavy-laden!"

THE SWILL-GATHERER'S CHILD.

"Most of those familiar with the East River Industrial School will
remember a poor widow--a swill-gatherer--wh