d introduce him." I said, "Bring
him in." The gentleman brought him in and introduced him, and I took him
by the hand and told him I was glad to see him. I invited him up to my
house, and when I took him into my family I introduced him as a friend.
When my little daughter came into the room, I said, "Emma, this is
papa's friend." And she went up and kissed him, and the man sobbed
aloud. After the child left the room, I said, "What is the matter?" "O
sir," he said, "I have not had a kiss for years. The last kiss I had was
from my mother, and she was dying. I thought I would never have another
one again." His heart was broken.

Moody's Little Emma.

I remember one time my little girl was teasing her mother to get her a
muff, and so one day her mother brought a muff home, and, although it
was storming, she very naturally wanted to go out in order to try her
new muff. So she tried to get me to go out with her. I went out with
her, and I said, "Emma, better let me take your hand." She wanted to
keep her hands in her muff, and so she refused to take my hand. Well, by
and by she came to an icy place, her little feet slipped, and down she
went. When I helped her up she said, "Papa, you may give me your little
finger." "No, my daughter, just take my hand." "No, no, papa, give me
your little finger." Well, I gave my finger to her, and for a little way
she got along nicely, but pretty soon we came to another icy place, and
again she fell. This time she hurt herself a little, and she said,
"Papa, give me your hand," and I gave her my hand, and closed my fingers
about her wrist, and held her up so that she could not fall. Just so God
is our keeper. He is wiser than we.

Little Jimmy.

A friend of mine in Chicago took his Sabbath-school out on the cars
once. A little boy was allowed to sit on the platform of the car, when
by some mischance he fell, and the whole train passed over him. They had
to go on a half a mile before they could stop. They went back to him and
found that the poor little fellow had been cut and mangled all to
pieces. Two of the teachers went back with the remains to Chicago. Then
came the terrible task of telling the parents about it. When they got to
the house they dared not go in. They were waiting there for five minutes
before anyone had the courage to tell the story. But at last they
ventured in. They found the family at dinner. The father was called
out--they thought they would tell the father firs