The sun sank, and Heraklas raised for the little company the evening
hymn of the early church. His mother's voice rose clear and sweet,
as all sang:

"Children, praise the Lord, Praise ye the name of the Lord. We
praise thee, we hymn thee, we bless thee, Because of the greatness
of thy glory. O Lord the King, the Father of Christ, Of the spotless
Lamb who taketh away The sin of the world, To thee belongeth praise,
To thee belongeth song, To thee belongeth glory, to the God And
Father, through the Son, in the Spirit, To the Most Holy, unto ages
of ages. Amen."

However long their exile might be, whatever privations they might
suffer in this desert place, the little company could sing their
praises with gratitude, for now not one voice of their number would
be silent. Here they would abide, telling of Christ to every heathen
wanderer whom they could seek out in these wilds. And if it should
please God that henceforth Egypt might never hold a home for them,
yet they could dwell in the deserts beyond Rome's dominion, knowing
that He who when on earth had no place to lay his head would be with
them. He had delivered the last one of the little company from the
snare of false gods.




THE SQUASH OF THE ESVIDOS.


Black dog slipped through a swinging gate and Miss Elizabeth