gan to
sing a beautiful hymn in soft, tuneful voices. It was a goodly array of
dusty diamonds, and a few of them had already begun to shine.

"Surely," said Sir Richard, in a low voice, "these cannot be the ragged,
dirty little fellows you pick up in the streets?"

"Indeed they are," returned the lady.

"But--but they seem to me quite respectable and cleanly fellows, not at
all like--why, how has the change been accomplished?"

"By the united action, sir, of soap and water, needles and thread,
scissors, cast-off garments, and Love."

Sir Richard smiled. Perchance the reader may also smile; nevertheless,
this statement embodied probably the whole truth.

When an unkempt, dirty, ragged little savage presents himself, or is
presented, at the Refuge, or is "picked up" in the streets, his case is
promptly and carefully inquired into. If he seems a suitable
character--that is, one who is _utterly_ friendless and parentless, or
whose parents are worse than dead to him--he is received into the Home,
and the work of transformation--both of body and soul--commences. First
he is taken to the lavatory and scrubbed outwardly clean. His elfin
locks are cropped close and cleansed. His rags are burned, and a new
suit, made by the old women workers, is put upon him, after which,
perhaps, he is fed. Then he is sent to a doctor to see that he is
internally sound in wind and limb. If passed by the doctor, he receives
a brief but important training in the rudiments of knowledge. In all of
these various processes Love is the guiding principle of the operator--
love to God and love to the boy. He is made to understand, and to
_feel_, that it is in the name of Jesus, for the love of Jesus, and in
the spirit of Jesus--not of mere philanthropy--that all this is done,
and that his body is cared for _chiefly_ in order that the soul may be
won.

Little wonder, then, that a boy or girl, whose past experience has been
the tender mercies of the world--and that the roughest part of the
world--should become somewhat "respectable," as Sir Richard put it,
under such new and blessed influences.

Suddenly a tiny shriek was heard in the midst of the crowd, and a sweet
little voice exclaimed, as if its owner were in great surprise--

"Oh! oh! there is _my_ boy!"

A hearty laugh from the audience greeted this outburst, and poor Di,
shrinking down, tried to hide her pretty face on Welland's ready arm.
Her remark was quickly forgotten in th