every day; I don't know whether it will do me any good, it's almost too
late now, but I can but try.'

'Shall I begin at once, mammie dear?'

'Yes, directly, Rosalie; I'll just write your name in it, that you may
always remember your mother when you see it.'

So Rosalie brought her a pen and ink, and she wrote at the bottom of the
page--'My little Rosalie, with her mother's love.'

'And now, child, you may begin to read.'

'What shall it be, mammie dear?'

'Find the part about your picture, dear; I should think it will say under
the text where it is.'

With some trouble Rosalie found Luke xv. and began to read--

'And He spake this parable unto them, saying, What man of you, having an
hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine
in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it? And
when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when
he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbours, saying unto
them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost. I say unto
you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth,
more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance.'

'_I_ need repentance, Rosalie, child,' said her mother.