e that again?'

'Ye can't get cold and hard, granny, if the fire burns bright; and the
Lord will keep it alight. He will indeed.'

'What do you mean by the fire, my dear?'

'Why, granny, I saw it at the Mothers' Meeting, Miss Lloyd showed us it,
such a pretty picture! I've often thought of it since.'

'Tell me about it, my lass, if it won't bring the cough on.'

'No, I feel so much easier to-day, granny, it doesn't hurt me to talk
like it did last week. I'll stop if it tires me. Well, there was a fire
in the picture, burning on the hearth, a bright, cheerful, little fire,
like I used to make of an evening when John Henry came home. And in
front of the fire, granny, was a man throwing buckets full of water on
it to put it out; but the fire was blazing away, and did not seem a bit
the worse for it.'

'That was a queer thing, my dear!' said granny.

'Yes, but Miss Lloyd showed us that, behind the fire, on the other side
of the wall, another was standing; and this one was quietly pouring oil
into the fire to keep it burning. And it never had a chance of going
out, granny, for the oil did it a deal more good than the water did it
harm.'

'Well, my dear,' said grandmother, 'of course it would be so: oil makes
a deal of blaze when it falls on fire; but what has that got to do with
me and my poor old heart?'

But Polly had a bad fit of coughing, and the good old woman would not
let her answer her question till she had had two hours' quiet rest. Then
she seemed brighter again, and was able to go on.

'Miss Lloyd explained it beautiful, granny. She told us the fire was the
work of grace in our hearts. As soon as we trusted our souls to Jesus
to be saved, she said that fire was lighted, the good work was begun.
But then, she said, "Don't forget you've got an enemy. Satan will try to
put the fire out. He'll send somebody to laugh at you, or to plague you
about turning religious. That's one bucket of water! He'll send you a
lot of work to do, to try and make you think you've no time to think
about your soul. That's another bucket of water!" He'll have all sorts
of pleasures, and cares, and difficulties ready, all of them buckets of
water, granny.'

'Ay, my dear, I see that, and I'll be bound there's a bucket not far off
coming on my poor little fire. But what about the oil, my dear?'

'I'm coming to the oil, granny. Satan has his buckets of water, but the
dear Lord has His bottle of oil. It's the Holy Spirit, granny, w