"He will make you happy, if you will pray to Him."
"Happy!" said Molly; as if it were a yet more impossible thing.
"Oh, yes. Jesus makes everybody happy that loves Him. He makes them good too, Molly; He forgives all their sins that they have done; and in heaven He will give them white robes to wear, and they will not do wrong things nor have any pain any more."
One of Molly's grunts came now; she did not understand this, or could not believe. Daisy looked on, pitiful and very much perplexed.
"Molly, you have a great Friend in heaven," said the child; "don't you know it? Jesus loves you."
"Hn?" said Molly again.
"Don't you know what He did, for you and me and everybody!"
Molly's head gave sign of ignorance. So Daisy sat down and told her. She told her the story at length; she painted the love of the few disciples, the enmity of the world, the things that infinite tenderness had done and borne for those who hated goodness and would not obey God. Molly listened, and Daisy talked; how, she did not know, nor Molly neither; but the good news was told in that poor little house; the unspeakable gift was made known. Seeing Molly's fixed eyes and rapt attention, Daisy went on at length and told all. The cripple's gaze never stirred all the while, nor stirred when the story came to an end. She still stared at Daisy. Well she might!
"Now, Molly," said the child, "I have got a message for you."
"Hn?" said Molly, more softly.