That evening, there came a gentle rap on my door, and to my "Come in," Minnie entered, bearing a glass of water.
Coming near, she placed the water on a little stand by my bedside. Noticing that she stood as though she would speak, I said, "What is it, Minnie?" She hesitated a moment, then replied: "I was thinking about what you said about the 'cup of water,' and I wanted to give you something 'cause you was sick, but I didn't have anything, so I thought may be you might like a fresh drink of water, for it's all I've got."
Indeed, my heart was touched by this poor girl's beautiful application of the lesson learned; nor was it forgotten—every evening during my illness came the "fresh drink" from the hands of the little beginner, who wanted to do something for Jesus.
LETTER FROM AN INDIAN BOY.
JUNE 5th, 1889.
Friends at the East:
It is summer over here now and every thing looks green and nice. The roses are red and beautiful, so every day everybody has a bouquet on his coat. There are lots of more flowers, some of them are white, blue, red, yellow; so everything looks nice.
The girls always decorate the church on Sunday. They get lots of flowers on the hills and down in the bottom. The days have been nice for about two weeks. The sun shines every day, and the wind has not blown for a long time, but to-day the wind blows just a little but not much.
We always play ball, and have nice times playing. But some times we get hurt. The Perkins Hall boys always play ball with the Whitney Hall boys, but the Whitney boys always get beaten.