little bird, was pressed against her lips; and when the blue eyes,
blue as the flower of the flax, smiled into hers, her beautiful
face reflected the sweet innocence of the little one, and made her
look like a happy child herself, playing in the sunshine.

"No use my singing to them of the Kingdom of Heaven," thought the
dove, "but if I can in any way serve them, I will."

And then it flew away towards the sunny village, for it had work
to do there.

***

It was afternoon now; the little mother took a basket on one arm
and the child's little hand into hers, and they left the cottage.
She had never been to the village, but she knew that it was situated
somewhere towards sunset, on the other side of the island, and the
farmer had told her that she would have to get over six stiles and
walk through six latticed gates before she could get there.

And on they went.

Their way lay along a footpath, full of stones and old tree-roots,
so that she was obliged to carry the little girl, and that was very
hard work. The doctor had told her that the child must not strain
her left foot, because it was so weak that it might easily have
grown deformed.

The young mother staggered along, under her beloved burden, and
large beads of perspiration stood like pearls on her forehead, for