"I'm so sorry for you, old Joe," said little Stephen, laying his small hand on the shrivelled one of the old man. "I wonder if you are one of the Children of Light?"
"I'm afraid he's not," said Audrey gravely.
"Oh, but you must be!" said little Stephen. "You'll be so happy if you are."
"I never heard tell of them," said old Joe.
"They are the people who belong to Jesus," said Stephen; "and He will make you one of them if you ask Him. Will you ask Him, old Joe?"
"I've been a bad, wicked old man," said Joe. "I don't suppose He would have anything to do with such as me."
"But He loves you," said little Stephen—"doesn't He, Audrey? And He died for you, old Joe. Won't you ask Him to take you into the Kingdom of Light?"
"I haven't said a prayer since I was a little lad and went to Sunday-school," said old Joe—"not for sixty years or more. It's too late for me to begin now."
"No, it isn't too late," said Audrey. "It's never too late to begin to pray."
"You must begin to-night, old Joe," said Stephen. "Put your hands together—so—now say after me, 'O Lord, take my sin away, and make me a Child of Light. Amen.' You can remember that prayer—can't you, old Joe?"