"Oh, that I could take you with me, my poor little children!" moaned the dying father.
Just then a lady entered the room. She had accidentally heard of the man who had been ill so long, and she had come in to help him.
She spoke to him in a voice of so much kindness, that he started up, crying, "Oh, madam! I want nothing for myself! but I would get on my knees to you for my children. I cannot die peacefully, thinking of the poverty and dreadful temptations to which they will be exposed. Left alone, orphans and penniless, who is to teach them the way to heaven?"
"Take comfort, my poor friend," said the kind lady, "your children shall not suffer want."
"But will they be taught to know and love their Saviour?" he asked, looking at her with an expression of intense anxiety.
"Yes, I will see that they are religiously brought up."
"Promise me!" he said in a hoarse whisper, for the excitement had exhausted him, and he lay panting for breath.
"I promise," answered the lady solemnly.
A thankful smile flitted over the wasted features; and looking up, he murmured, "Thank God, I die happy."
