y heard her, softly as she had spoken.

"Little Pollie," he feebly murmured, and turned his dim eyes up to her.

"Dear Jimmy," she said, kneeling down beside him. He smiled as though at
peace, and yet the life-blood was ebbing slowly away.

"Pollie," he said, "shall I go to the kingdom of heaven? Will Jesus put
His hands on me, and bless me also?"

The little girl could not speak for sobbing, but she laid her soft cheek
upon his clay-cold hand.

"You've been very good to me," he rambled on, "you told me of the Good
Shepherd"---- There was silence, broken only by the choking sobs of the
listeners; even the policemen, used as they were to similar scenes, were
deeply moved at the dying boy's love for his little friend. His eyes
were closed, but his disengaged hand wandered feebly over the horse-rug
that covered him, until at last he laid it on Pollie's bowed head. There
it rested; his eyes unclosed, and he gazed wildly round, saying
excitedly--

"Pollie, Pollie, it's so dark. Is it night coming on? Don't go, little
Pollie. Let me say the prayer you taught me." He tried to fold his hands
as _she_ had always done. In vain--they fell upon the coverlet, weak and
nerveless.

"Lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death," he murmured
falteringly. The voice ceased!

Crippled Jimmy had passed away safely into the fold of the Good
Shepherd!

Ah! who would wish him back again? Misery exchanged for perfect
bliss--sorrow and sighing for eternal joy.

They all gazed upon the sharp pinched features, now gradually settling
into the calm repose of death. What in life was almost painful to look
upon, with the touch of immortality became lovely; for the dead child's
face bore the impress of an angel's smile, as though he had caught a
glimpse of heaven's happiness whilst passing through the dark valley of
the shadow of death.

Little Pollie clung to her mother, sobbing convulsively and hiding her
face in her dress.

"Hush, my darling," soothed the widow; "poor Jimmy is now with God, free
from all sorrow or pain. Think what his joy must be!"

They were startled by a harsh voice screeching out--

"That ain't my Jimmy! Let me get at him! I say, what be you folks doing
here?"

It was the drunken creature, who, unnoticed by any of them, had
approached the spot where the dead child lay. She darted forward,
crying out, whilst she brandished the bottle--

"I'll wake him, never fear; like I've done many a time before, I wa