show you a cow-path that goes close by the barn. Wouldn't you like a drink?" she added; "this is real nice water, and I've got a cup I keep here."

"Thank you, that will be very refreshing," said Amity. Kit produced her cup, washed it in the stream, and filled it at the spring-head. Both the girls drank, and praised the cool, sweet draught.

"What a lovely spring!" said Amity, bending down to look into its depths.

"It has great bubbles in it," said Kit. "If you watch, you will see one presently. There! isn't that pretty?"

"It is, indeed," said Amity. "Look, Ida."

"I see," replied Ida, bending down in her turn. "I see, too, that the sun is getting low, and aunt Barbara will be uneasy about us. So this is the way, is it?"

"Yes, ma'am. Keep in the path, and you won't get into any of the soft places."

"Thank you, my dear. Good-night."

As Kit bent over the spring to dip a cup of water for herself, she saw something red and golden lying under the great tuft of lady-fern which partly overhung the water. She picked it up. It was a beautifully bound little book, bearing marks of a great deal of careful wear; and, on opening it, Kit saw that it was a New Testament.

Her heart gave a great bound at the sight. She had been asking for a Testament before she went to sleep, and here it was. Then came another thought. One of the young ladies must have dropped it. Kit could read writing. She turned to the fly-leaf, and

read, written in a clear though somewhat tremulous hand,

'Amity, with mother's love, on her tenth birthday."

Underneath was written, in another hand, "The very day my dear mother died."

"It is that plain young lady's, the one they say is so rich," thought Kit. "Well, she can buy plenty more, and I haven't any. But then she must think every thing of it, because her mother gave it to her. Oh, dear! I wish I knew what to do. It does seem as though I ought to have it."

Just then something seemed to whisper in Kit's ear a verse she had read in her own Testament only the day before, "Whatsoever ye would that men

should do to you, do ye even so to them."

"He said that," said Kit, speaking aloud. "Suppose I had a Testament that mother gave me, and I should lose it, and some one should find it."

Kit did not hesitate another moment. She ran down the hill as fast as she could, and overtook the young ladies just at their own gate.

"Why, here is our little friend again,” said Amity. "My dear child, how you have put yourself out of breath!"

"Isn't this yours?" asked Kit, producing the book. "I found it down by the spring."

66

'It is, indeed!" replied Amity. "My dear child, how can I thank you enough? I would rather have lost almost any thing else that I possess."

"I thought you would be sorry to lose it, because it had your mother's writing in it," said Kit, feeling

very happy as Amity kissed her. "I know, if I had a Testament that my mother gave me, how much I would think of it. But I must hurry home."

"Wait a minute," said Amity. "Kitty, I want to give you something, not as a reward, but as a keepsake. What shall it be?"

Kit's carnation cheeks grew more beautiful than ever, between eagerness and bashfulness.

"If it wouldn't be impudent to ask, if you had a little old Testament you could give me,” she said.

66 Would you rather have a little one than a large one?" asked Amity.

"Yes, because I could hide it easier."

"Wait just a moment," said Amity. "So she has to hide her Testament," she remarked to Ida as they went into the house.

They are a dreadfully hard family, from all I hear," answered Ida. "One of aunt Barbara's softcovered Testaments will be just the thing for her."

Mrs. Barbara Van Zandt was sitting by the parlor window, hemming a napkin with an exquisite overhand hem. She was almost always hemming napkins when she was not buying them or packing them in neat parcels to send away, and she had brought abundance of her favorite fancy-work with her to the country.

"You are late," said she as the girls entered. "I began to think you were lost."

So we were," said Ida; "and I don't know where we should have landed, only for a little girl – such an odd, lovely child!-whom we found asleep on the hill-top."