her say, "What should I do without you, my dear Susan." It seems to
me as if I would rather live over again those days, when I was
trying to help and comfort my sick mother, than any of my whole
life. Children are not aware how much they can do for their parents,
nor do they know what a blessed remembrance it will be to them to
think that they have lessened the sufferings of a sick mother. All
the riches in the world would not afford them such happiness.

Mrs. Brown, the kind lady who took me home, told me that she would
send me to school, and that I should have a home at her house; but
that, as she was very poor, she should expect me to exert myself
when I was not at school, and do all I could to help in the house;
and that I must improve my time at school. She gave me a great deal
of good advice, and told me I must not imitate the bad conduct that
I might see; and that I must never do any thing without asking my
conscience whether it was right to do it. I remember she asked me if
I knew what my conscience was. I was not quite sure that I did; so I
said, I did not know whether I did. Then she asked me if I ever
remembered doing wrong.

"O yes, ma'am," I said; "I never shall forget playing with my
mother's bottle of cough drops, when she told me not to, and
spilling them all out. I did not tell her of it at first, and she
could not get any more till next day; and every time she coughed, it
seemed as if my heart would break; and I hated myself, and could not
bear it at all till I told her I had played with the bottle and
spilled the drops."

"It was your conscience, Susan," the old lady said, "that was so
troubled; it was your conscience that said you must tell your