da. "We felt
that we needed help from you."

"And you shall have it this very hour. We will let the lesson go
to-day, and just have a little meeting all to ourselves."

"That will be just beautiful!" exclaimed Nettie.

While the other classes in the church were discussing the lesson for the
day, Mrs. Martin's class in the pew in the rear were settling the great
question of their lives.

Mrs. Martin began by telling them the story of the Christ--how Christ
left His heavenly home, and came to earth to die for all men, since all
are sinners; and how all may be saved from sin by being sorry for their
wrong-doing, deciding to lead a right life, and taking Him as their
personal Saviour. "Is this what you all believe?"

"It is," replied the class, softly.

Then all closed their eyes, and Mrs. Martin prayed softly for them,
after which each prayed for pardon, and by the time Sabbath-school was
dismissed, all felt that Christ had accepted them as His very own.

"Oh, how I shall prize this little note," said Mrs. Martin, as they were
leaving the church for home. "You could not have given me a Christmas
remembrance which would have meant more to me. And I am sure that I am
not the only one you have remembered this day--you have given yourselves
to Christ, who died and arose from the grave for you, and He will
treasure the Christmas gift you have given Him more than I can the one
you have given me."

[Illustration]

THE IMPOSSIBLE YESTERDAY

* * * * *

She was a tiny girl, playing by herself in a wide, grassy yard. The
older children had gone to school, but she, too young for that, was
busying herself with putting in order a playhouse in an arbor--arranging
it as nearly as possible as it had been the day before, when she and two
or three little mates had enjoyed such a merry time there. To and fro
trudged the tireless feet, patiently the small hands worked, and at last
all was complete. Then the young worker looked about her, and slowly a
shadow of disappointment crept over the face that had been so eager.
Something was lacking. Everything was in the remembered order, but it
did not seem the same. She studied it for a minute or two, then walked
away and sat down on a sunny doorstep. The mother found her there a
little later, a listless, quiet little figure.

"Are you tired of your playhouse already, dear?" she asked.

The childish eyes were uplifted with a look of wistful wonder