truth, and despite his rags "His Royal Highness" was a more befitting
name than Joe.

"Where does Jessie live, my boy?"

"Oh, sir, yer isn't going to take Jessie to that land of pure delight,
and spoil all my pleasure. I does want to do it myself. Yer won't be
so mean as that, after listening to what I've been telling yer, will
yer?"

"Not I, my boy, not I. Just let me go and see Jessie and her mother,
and whatever I can do for them, I'll do it through you."

A little persuasion, and then "His Royal Highness" and I made our way
to the tenement and began climbing the stairs. We had gone up five
flights and were mounting the sixth, when the boy stopped suddenly and
motioned for me to listen. The voice of a woman reached my ear--a
voice with deep grief in every tone--saying, "God is our refuge and
strength, a very present help in time of trouble." A pause--then a
sob--and the voice wailing rather than singing:

Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, oh, leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me.
All my trust on Thee is stayed,
All my help from Thee I bring,
Cover my defenceless head,
With the shadow of Thy wing.