the harvesting will be;
Never from the blasting thistle,
Was there gathered golden grain,
Thus the seal the child receiveth,
From its mother will remain."
--MRS. HALE.

For once Mrs. Gibson had the grace to feel a passing emotion of gratitude
to this kind benefactor, and shame that she herself had been so ready with
fault-finding instead of thanks.

As for Sally, she was completely overcome, and dropping into a chair, hid
her face and cried heartily.

"Come, don't be a fool," her mother said at last; "there's too much to be
done to waste time in crying, and besides you'll hurt your eyes."

Sally rose hastily, removed the traces of her tears, and began setting the
table for their morning meal.

"How soon are you going?" her mother asked at its conclusion.

"Just as soon as I can get the things cleared away and the dishes washed;
if you think you can spare me."

"Of course I can. I feel well enough this morning to help myself to
anything I'm likely to want."

There was still half an hour to spare before breakfast when, after a round
of five or six miles on their ponies, Philip and Elsie reached the Crags.

"What shall you do with yours?" asked Philip, remarking upon that fact.

"Read," she answered, looking back at him with a smile as she tripped
lightly up the stairs.

Dinah was in waiting to smooth her hair and help her change the pretty
riding hat and habit for a dress better suited to the house; then Elsie,
left alone, seated herself by a window with her Bible in her hand.

For a moment her eyes rested upon the blue distant mountains, softly
outlined against the deeper blue of the sky, watched the cloud shadows
floating over the nearer hills and valleys here richly wooded, there
covered with fields of waving grain her ear the while drinking in with
delight many a sweet rural sound, the songs of birds, the distant lowing
of cattle, and bleating of sheep--her heart swelling with ardent love and
thankfulness to him who had given her so much to enjoy.

Dinah had left the door open, that the fresh air might course freely
through the room, and Gertrude coming, some minutes later, in search of
her friend, stood watching Elsie for a little unperceived.

"Dear me!" she exclaimed at length, "how many times a day do you pore over
that book?"

Elsie looked up with a smile as sweet as the morning, "I am allowed to
read it as often as I please."

"Allowed? not com