away. Do you want to kill your old grandam, Mercy? Why, in course I
can't see my blessed Saviour, the Lord Jesus, till I'm dead."

"Oh!" said Cecile, with a heavy sigh, "I did think as He lived down
yere, and that He came in and out to see you sometimes, seeing as you
love Him so. You said as He was a guide. How can He be a guide when
He's dead?"

"A guide to the New Jerusalem and the Celestial City," murmured old
Mrs. Bell, beginning to wander a little. "Yes, yes, my blessed Lord
and faithful and sure guide."

"But how can He be a guide when He's dead?" questioned Cecile.

"Mercy, child, put in another feather in yer sampler, and don't
worry an old woman. The Lord Jesus ain't dead--no, no; He died once,
but He rose--He's alive for evermore. Don't you ask no strange
questions, Mercy, child."

"Oh! but I must--I must," answered Cecile, now grown desperate. She
threw her sampler on the floor, rose to her feet, and confronted the
old woman with her eyes full of tears. "Whether I'm Mercy or not
don't matter, but I'm a very, very careworn little girl--I'm a little
girl with a deal, a great deal of care on my mind--and I want Jesus
most terrible bad to help me. Mistress Bell, dear Mistress Bell, when
you die and see Jesus, won't you ask Him, won't you be certain sure
to ask Him to guide me too?"

"Why, my darling, He's sure to guide you. There ain't no fear, my
dear life. He's sure, sure to take my Mercy, too, to the Celestial