of the flowers, the blue of the sky, the sleep of the water, seemed to
push us out of the happy world that God had made. And yet the children
seemed as happy as if God were busy making, the things before their
eyes, and holding out each thing, as he made it, for them to look at.

"I should have told you that we had two children then."

"I did not know you had any family," interposed the colonel.

"Yes, we had two then. One of them is now in India, and the other was
not long out of heaven.--Well, I was glad when my friend stopped the
carriage, and got out with the children, to take them close to the
water's edge, and let them feed the swans. I liked better to sit in
the carriage alone--an ungrateful creature, in the midst of causes for
thankfulness. I did not care for the beautiful things about me; and I
was not even pleased that other people should enjoy them. I listlessly
watched the well-dressed ladies that passed, and hearkened
contemptuously to the drawling way in which they spoke. So bad and
proud was I, that I said in my heart, 'Thank God! I am not like them
yet!' Then came nursemaids and children; and I did envy the servants,
because they had work to do, and health to do it, and wages for it
when it was done. The carriage was standing still all this time, you
know. Then sickly-looking men passed, with still more sickly-looking
wives, some of them leading a child between them. But even their faces
told of wages, and the pleasure of an evenings walk in the park. And
now I was able to thank God that they had the parks to walk in. Then
came tottering by, an old man, apparently of eighty years, leaning on
the arm of his grand-daughter, I supposed--a tidy, gentle-looking
maiden. As they passed, I heard the old man say: 'He maketh me to lie
down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters.' And