on which she stood.
Who could be weeping for Inge? She had a mother in the world still,
and the tears of sorrow which a mother sheds for her child will always
find their way to the child's heart, but they often increase the
torment instead of being a relief. And Inge could hear all that was
said about her in the world she had left, and every one seemed cruel
to her. The sin she had committed in treading on the loaf was known on
earth, for she had been seen by the cowherd from the hill, when she
was crossing the marsh and had disappeared.

When her mother wept and exclaimed, "Ah, Inge! what grief thou
hast caused thy mother" she would say, "Oh that I had never been born!
My mother's tears are useless now."

And then the words of the kind people who had adopted her came
to her ears, when they said, "Inge was a sinful girl, who did not
value the gifts of God, but trampled them under her feet."

"Ah," thought Inge, "they should have punished me, and driven
all my naughty tempers out of me."

A song was made about "The girl who trod on a loaf to keep her
shoes from being soiled," and this song was sung everywhere. The story
of her sin was also told to the little children, and they called her
"wicked Inge," and said she was so naughty that she ought to be
punished. Inge heard all this, and her heart became hardened and
full of bitterness.

But one day, while hunger and grief were gnawing in her hollow
frame, she heard a little, innocent child, while listening to the tale
of the vain, haughty Inge, burst into tears and exclaim, "But will she
never come up again?"

And she heard the reply, "No, she will never come up again."

"But if she were to say she was sorry, and ask pardon, and promise
never to do so again?" asked the little one.

"Yes, then she might come; but she will not beg pardon," was the
answer.

"Oh, I wish she would!" said the child, who was quite unhappy
about it. "I should be so glad. I would give up my doll and all my
playthings, if she could only come here again. Poor Inge! it is so
dreadful for her."

These pitying words penetrated to Inge's inmost heart, and
seemed to do her good. It was the first time any one had said, "Poor
Inge!" without saying something about her faults. A little innocent
child was weeping, and praying for mercy for her. It made her feel
quite strange, and she would gladly have wept herself, and it added to
her torment to find she could not do so. And while she thus suffe