ious repast, which,
however, was slowly, for she was so filled with delight, the old woman
bade her leave her chair, and come to her; upon which she took her in
her arms, and, looking lovingly down upon her, said:

"My dear Ruth, I am going to show you all the treasures which the
children upon the earth gather together, in order some time to take with
them to heaven. I call their treasures what they love most in their
hearts, and put into actions. Everything they do or say is kept very
carefully; for one day they will want them. So you see they cannot lose
anything. Everything in nature, every cloud that seems only leisurely
floating in the sky, is serving some purpose. And all that is done below
is borne up here."

Ruth could not help thinking that the old woman might show her some very
beautiful and some very curious things to keep; and in sorrow she began
to think what unpleasant things of her own were treasured up, to be
given back to her some day when she least expected or desired them.

But the old woman said nothing about Ruth's things, but, taking her
hand, led her forth into the garden again.

"I am going to show you some things there are here," said her friend;
"and if they seem ridiculous to you, don't laugh at them. For my part, I
think it sad children will treasure up such miserable things."

They had soon passed into the garden, where Ruth saw the most delicate
flowers she had ever seen--they were so tall, and nodded their heads
gayly to each other; but when she came to a bed of violets--white ones
and blue, _so large_, larger than she thought it was possible for them
to grow--she stopped to gaze upon them in complete admiration; the
fragrance, too, was delicious--more so than those her brother had,
although those were very fine ones.

"Take some, my child," said the old woman, who watched her delight with
a kind smile. So down upon her knees she dropped, and took them, and she
could not help thinking how beautiful and lovely a smile would fall upon
her from her mother's face, as she gave them to her. So the violets,
too, were carefully laid in her pocket for her mother.

Then they passed out from the garden, and came to a gray house; withered
flowers lay about it, while briers and nettle-bushes clung to its walls;
but, worse than all this, there came forth from the house angry, hateful
words, and noises of a mad strife. Ruth feared to pass this place, and
clung closely to the old woman's side.

"