And then she repeated some verses which both she and Mrs. Newton liked very much.
"Lo! the lilies of the field,
How their leaves instruction yield!
Hark to nature's lesson, given
By the blessed birds of heaven.
"Say with richer crimson glows,
The kingly mantle than the rose;
Say are kings more richly dressed,
Than the lily's glowing vest!
"Grandmother I forget the next verse," said Fanny, interrupting herself; "I know it is something about lilies not spinning; but then comes this verse—
"Barns, nor hoarded store have we"—
"It is not the lilies, grandmother, but the blessed birds that are speaking now—
"Barns, nor hoarded store have we,
Yet we carol joyously;
Mortals, fly from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow."
Poor Mrs. Newton clasped her thin hands, and looked up, and prayed like the disciples, "Lord, increase our faith!"
"Eh!" said she, afterwards, "is it not strange that we can trust our Lord and Saviour with the care of our souls for eternity, and we cannot trust Him with that of our bodies for a day."
Well! this was poor Mrs. Newton's state on that day, when the gentleman gave Fanny the half-sovereign instead of sixpence, for her flowers.