"Where is heaven now?"
Noting the wan flicker of a smile, the old servant pointed solemnly downward.
"You are a bright pupil," came in a scarcely audible voice.
"Thank you, sir."
"Do you know, Biggs, I wish I had led a different—a better life."
"You have been a good master, sir. You have been kind, you have given liberally to charity," Biggs defended him.
"Yes," cynically, "I have given liberally to charity. But it has been no sacrifice."
"You have been a pillar in the church," ventured Biggs.
"Yes," bitterly, "a stone pillar. I have paid handsomely for my pew, and slept peacefully through the sermons. I have bought baskets of food for the poor at Thanksgiving and Christmas time, only to let others reap the happiness of giving them away. I could have had so much joy out of Christmas, if I would. I could have been a jolly, rosy-cheeked Santa Claus and gone to a hundred homes, my arms loaded with gifts."
"True, sir, but you made that joy possible for others."