"Was Winnie a relative of yours?" the brother asked.
"No, sir; but the blessed child was at our house constantly, and when Bob here was sick she nursed and tended him and her hymns quieted him when nothing else seemed to do it. It was just the same with all the neighbors. She took tracts to them all and has prayed with them ever since she was converted, which was three years ago, when she was but six years of age, sir. What she's been to us all no one but the Lord will ever know and now she lies there."
Recognized at last, Brother Gordon was led to the room where the child lay at rest, looking almost younger than when he had seen her in his study six months before. An old bent woman was crying aloud by the coffin.
"I never thought she'd go afore I did. She used regular to read an' sing to me every evening, an' it was her talk an' prayers that made a Christian of me: you could a'most go to heaven on one of her prayers."
"Mother, mother come away," said a young man putting his arm around her to lead her back. "You'll see her again."
"I know, I know: she said she'd wait for me at the gate," she sobbed as she followed him; "but I miss her sore now."
"It's the old lady as Mrs. Lewis lived with sir," said a young lad standing next to Brother Gordon, as one and another still pressed up towards the little casket for a last look at the beloved face. "She was a Unitarian, and she could not hold out against Winnie's prayers and pleadings to love Jesus, and she's been trusting in Him now for quite awhile. A mighty good thing it is, too."
"You are right, my lad," replied the minister. "Do you trust Him, too?"
"Winnie taught me, sir," the lad made answer, and sudden tears filled his eyes.
[Illustration: "Mother, mother, come away." said a young man, putting his arm around her to lead her back. "You'll see her again.">[