cheerful voice went on.

"I have my bird, sir, and my roses, I have books, and best of all, I
have the cross on the old church tower. I can see it from my pillow
and it shines there all day long, so bright and beautiful, while the
white doves coo upon the roof below. I love it dearly."

The young man looked out through the narrow window and saw, rising
high above the house-tops, like a finger pointing heavenward, the
old gray tower and the gleaming cross. The city's din was far below,
and through the summer air the faint coo of the doves and the
flutter of their wings came down, like peaceful country sounds.

"Why do you love it, Jamie?" he asked, looking at the thoughtful
face that lit up eagerly as the boy replied,--

"Because it does me so much good, sir. Bess told me long ago about
the blessed Jesus who bore so much for us, and I longed to be as
like him as a little child could grow. So when my pain was very
sharp, I looked up there, and, thinking of the things he suffered,
tried so hard to bear it that I often could; but sometimes when it
was too bad, instead of fretting Bess, I'd cry softly, looking up
there all the time and asking him to help me be a patient child. I
think he did; and now it seems so like a friend to me, I love it
better every day. I watch the sun climb up along the roofs in the
morning, creeping higher and higher till it shines upon the cross
and turns it into gold. Then through the day I watch the sunshine
fade away till all the red goes from the sky, and for a little while
I cannot see it through the dark. But the moon comes, and I love it
better then; for lying awake through the long nights, I see the