"Mamma, is that the Apostle John?" she whispered.
Her mamma smiled, and shook her head, and Susy sat still, and listened to what was said, without speaking, for her little tongue had learned that it must keep still when older persons were talking.
After the visitors went away, she made up for lost time, by asking several questions all in one long row.
"Who was that man? What makes his hair so white? Did you see him put his hand on my head? I liked him dearly."
"That was a very good man," said her mamma, "and I hope God will hear the prayer he made for you when he put his hand on your head."
"That's the way Jesus put his hand on the heads of little children," said Susy. "I wish I had been there."
"That reminds me of a sweet little hymn that I copied from a book Mrs. Ray lent me. I must read it to you till you learn it. Come! we'll go right up stairs, and you shall hear it."
So they went up stairs, and Susy heard for the first time that beautiful hymn, beginning:
"I think when I hear that sweet story of old."
Tears came into her eyes as she listened, but they were tears of pleasure; she soon had learned the first verse, and they sat singing it together when nurse came in with Robbie, who had a small box in his hand.