heart
which have never been felt before. What was there upon earth to revive
the spirit of the little orphan, so utterly deserted, so ready to
perish? Nothing. But there was something in heaven--and within that
girlish bosom there lived a faith in the unseen realities, which might
well have shamed many an older person. With her uncovered head exposed
to the falling snow, she knelt down, and this time she bent the knee to
no hard, cruel master; but with the confidence of filial love, she
uttered her fervent prayer to Him who is a very present help in time of
trouble. She called upon her Father to save a little helpless orphan;
or, if it were His will, to take her up to heaven--"_Thy_ will be done."
And she rose with a tranquillity and calm determination which many would
have deemed impossible in one so young; but there is a promise, and many
weak ones can testify to its fulfilment, "As thy day, so shall thy
strength be."

Margaret went onward towards the public road: there was no farm-house
nearer than about a mile, and the child greatly doubted her ability to
reach it; but she had resolved to persevere in her efforts, while any
power remained in her muscles, any vital warmth in her heart. Onward
went that little child, painfully, but still steadily onward; she
struggled against the drowsiness that attacked her, but at last she
began to feel that she could do no more. But yield not yet to despair,
thou gentle and brave orphan! One stronger than thou has come to thy
assistance. For hearest thou not the subdued sound of horses' hoofs
scattering the snow? thou art saved!

A traveller approaches, made of other stuff than the crafty Smiths and
the brutal Jacksons of the earth,--he sees that slight childish figure,
that bare head, those failing steps,--he thinks of his own little ones
at home, seated by the sparkling fire, and awaiting his return. He is
not one of those who hold the creed of impious Cain, "Am I my brother's
keeper?" But, instead, he is a follower of the Good Samaritan, or
rather, I should say, of Him who taught that lesson and practised it,
seeking and saving those who were lost. He stopped his horse. "My little
girl, what are you doing out of doors on a night like this? you will be
frozen to death. Why are you not at home with your father and mother?"
"I wish I were!" she said. "They are both dead--I wish I were with
them!" "But, my child, you must have a home; why are you out on such a
stormy night?" "I h