O how glad I am," and the dear child clapped her dimpled hands with
delight.

And so they went to church Sabbath after Sabbath, while Emma ever
seemed to enjoy the services, often making observations upon what
she heard. She inquired every day if it were Sunday; and Saturday
evenings her play things were all carefully laid aside, and she
expressed great sympathy for poor little children that played upon
that day.

The story of the cross would affect her to tears, and yet she loved
to dwell upon it, and it was with great effort her attention could be
withdrawn from it.

One rosy twilight hour, when the departed beams of the sun still
lingered, tinging the curtains of the west with those bright and
gorgeous hues that so frequently surround him at his setting. Emma and
her mother sat down to spend that happy hour together, and gaze upon
the scene.

Spring was rapidly advancing, and the face of nature was lovely to the
eye. The half open buds upon the trees shed sweet perfume, and birds
carolled their evening songs on every spray.

But the things of earth, beautiful though they were, could not satisfy
the mind of the child, and when the golden stars spangled the blue
canopy above, she talked of golden harps, of her angel cousin, and the
mysteries of that unseen world,

"Beyond planets, suns, and adamantine spheres."