The Tract Magazine and Christian Miscellany

it was growing near the time for her husband's return from work; she dreaded to meet him with such terrible news. A knock at the door roused her; it was a fellow-labourer of Joe's father, who had been sent by the farmer where he worked, to say he could not return that night, as the snow must be cleared off on low ground, where the stock was in danger of being buried under it.

In a moment she put out her fire, fetched the jug of broth, and went off towards Bet's cottage.

It was a great relief to her that she would be able to tell her heavy trouble to one who could and would pity her, before she should have to see her husband's sorrow. A most tender father he had been, though (partly owing to her temper, which had driven him into taking Joe's part when it would have been better not to do it), not a wise

one.

How it snowed! Should she able be to get safely to her journey's end? and if so, could she return? No matter; she must pour out her heart to Bet, and if she got snowed in, in the "poor little hole," she could not help it; her great heart trouble overbore every other consideration.

At last she reached the cottage, but before she could open the door she had to shovel away the snow with her foot, for it lay deep on the ground, drifted all along the hedge side.

She found the room much as she had left it; but the fire had burned down and she could scarcely see the bed where Bet lay in a sound sleep.

She thought she would rekindle the fire before awaking her, so brushing the snow from her garments as well as she could, she went to work.

The noise roused Bet, who looked both pleased and puzzled when she saw her. Thought sure as you'd gone home!" she cried, hardly awake.

"So I did go home," answered Nancy; "but I've come back again, and brought you some broth."

"Nay, that was a pity in such a winterly night," said Bet. That cup o' tea you made me and the warm fire did

so comfort me, that I went fast asleep, and my pain is ever so much better. Oh, how good the Lord is to us, Nancy!"

Nancy shook her head and said: "I'm not going to talk that way when I've got such news as is in my pocket to tell you of."

"News?" cried Bet inquiringly.

"Ah, just hear," she answered; and taking the letter to the fire, with no small difficulty read it by the blaze.

More than once she was interrupted by her tears; when she had finished, finding that Bet said nothing, though she looked full of pity and sorrow, she cried, "Now I hope you'll own as I've got a dark day; and summat as I may make a real trouble of!" Here she began to cry bitterly, declaring that she had been dealt with cruelly, and that to pretend to find any comfort in this trouble would be downright hypocrisy.

Bet allowed her to go on crying and complaining all the time she was warming the broth. When she took it to her, she looked at her so compassionately that her heart was touched.

"Ah! I knowed as you'd be sorry for me, Bet; that was why I came," she sobbed out. "I couldn't go to bed till I'd told you; not as you could comfort me-nobody could do that, only it was summat to be able to get a bit of pity."

Bet for some time did all in her power to soothe her, but she knew well that Nancy was too angry with the affliction laid on her to be much the better for anything she could say. But it struck her that it would be the right thing to tell her the truth, and the strength she felt, through relief from pain and the nourishing broth, helped her.

"Dear neighbour," she said, "if I had had the bad news in the beginning of your letter, I believe the good news at the end of it would have given me a joy bigger than my grief-I do indeed."

"Good news!" cried Nancy sharply, "where do you find good news, I'd like to know?"

"He was not cut off in his sins; he went to Jesus for

pardon, and he was pardoned. So now, instead of sitting in a poor place like this, by a blink of fire, like you and me, he's in the heavenly Jerusalem, praising his Saviour with a golden harp. Now don't you go to stop me, Nancy," she added, seeing Nancy's impatient gesture, "where he is there's no want of any good thing. He'll hunger no more, nor thirst no more, nor suffer pain no more—no, nor die no more! Oh, neighbour, if you could only see him now, you'd say, 'It's good to be there." "

She spoke with such energy that Nancy half believed her. She ceased crying, and said, “ If I could see it all, as you say, I might be pacified, Bet, but I can't; no, I can't."

"the dear Lord will help you

CHAPTER III.

Many a Christmas came and went after this one, so memorable to Nancy and her friend. Bet felt a deep debt of gratitude for the timely help Nancy had afforded her, and often wished she could return it. "But there," she thought, “I'm asking the Lord for her every day, and what better could I do?"

It was Christmas Eve again, and she stood with some holly in her hand at Nancy's door, listening to sounds which prevented her from lifting the latch. It was a bright moonlight night, no snow, no black clouds. Those sounds within, how unlike they were to any she had heard there before! Yes, they were sounds of prayer and praise, and those who prayed and praised were Nancy and her husband and their lost son Joe!

Nancy had "tried," as Bet had urged her to do, and no cry is too faint to reach that mercy seat where the great High Priest waits to hear and answer prayer. The consequence was she had become an altered woman. She did her best to keep down her hard thoughts of God's dealings with her, and to look at things as Bet did.

On that Christmas Eve, as she was talking to her husband about the memorable one when the postman brought her Joe's letter, there was a knock at the door. "It's Bet!"

she cried, getting up to open it. "She said she'd bring me some holly, because ours has got no berries on it."

She opened the door, and in another moment was in her son's arms.

The story was soon told. He remained long in the hospital, and when he was able to leave it and rejoin his regiment, he was ordered from place to place, getting farther and farther away. He had written many letters, but, through mistake or neglect (both perhaps) they had failed to reach home. The great thing he had to tell was that a fellow soldier, he who had written the letter for him as he lay dying (as it was thought), had been the means of leading him to seek for repentance and faith, which were most graciously granted, and he had been brought to know and love the Lord Jesus Christ as his Saviour and Redeemer. Poor Bet couldn't express her joy, her heart was too full.

"Dear Nancy," she said, "didn't I tell you out of the eater would come forth meat'?"

"'Course you did," said Nancy, "and a deal more besides; and I've told Joe as he isn't the only one that has been taught by trouble. Bless the Lord for putting you up

to mind me about it! I've been brought to see summat of my sins and my Saviour, and I do hope I'll never go grumbling no more."

"It's about the time as the angels was singing their beautiful song," said Joe's father, as Bet rose to go. "Couldn't we raise a strain to join 'em afore we part for the night ?"

"Ay, sure!" cried all most joyfully; and so they sang with music in their hearts

"Let sinners saved give thanks, and sing

Of mercies past, and joys to come;

The Lord their Saviour is and King,

The cross their hope and heaven their home."