40 THE HOME OF A NATURALIST. 



the hearth in her room. Her writing-table, darkened 

 by age, dented by the ill-usage of many children, stood 

 close by. On it a lamp beside an open Bible. A group 

 of children were around her repeating texts and hymns. 

 Then she drew the Bible nearer and called me to her 

 side. Turning the leaves at random she bade me read, 

 and I can remember how my heart fluttered as I read 

 passage after passage wherever her finger pointed. I 

 had been promised a Bible of my own when able to 

 read it ; so I had I suppose (for I was only four and a 

 half years old, and have no remembrance of how, or 

 when, I learned to read) been studying hard, and the 

 time had come when my powers were to be tested. 



I heard the elder sister, who had been my young 

 foster-mother, say, " She can do it" 



Then I was directed to read all of the chapter 

 beginning, " Let not your hearts be troubled. Ye be- 

 lieve in God : believe also in Me. In My Father's 

 house are many mansions." 



I must have bungled through it somehow, but my 

 mother was satisfied, for she closed the Book and said, 

 " That is very well, Jessie." 



I was struck even then by her using my Christian 

 name, and by the tone in which she said it, for I was 

 usually called by pet names and scarcely knew my own. 

 Then she rose, and laying a hand on David's shoulder, 

 crossed to where the old bureau stood. Many years 

 before she had had a terrible accident which had 

 caused lameness, and she always required to use a 

 " staff of support." I seem to see her now, as she 



