Reading is joy and comfort:— Oh, such a strange returning "Not that I dream or fancy You know all that is past : -A. A. Procter. CHAPTER XXI. "I HAVE brought you a little soup," Mrs Jones said, as she laid down a bowl on Mrs Harpur's table the following day. "Will you take a little now?" "Indeed I will, gladly, Mrs Jones; and thank you for remembering me. I was just wishing for something hot and with a taste, and your soup is sure to be that." 66 Well, I hope it is pretty good to-day," and Mrs Jones put the saucepan on the fire. Then sitting down by the bed, she said, looking at Mrs Harpur, "They say 'a lame dog can help another over a style,' and I always think the afflicted can best comfort those in trouble." "Perhaps that may be one reason why our loving Father chastens His children, that they may be able to comfort others with the comfort wherewith they are themselves comforted of God,' as St Paul says.' "That's not unlikely," replied Mrs Jones. got a deal of comfort yesterday from that dear lady, Miss Harrison; and they say she had sorrow enough in her youth." "Indeed she had. The loss of her father was a terrible blow to her, and no wonder. Mr Harrison was no common man, and, I've always heard, the best of fathers. I don't think she has ever been the same since his death. I'm glad she was with you. 66 "She makes no doubt but that God will answer our prayers about 'our trouble,' though perhaps not exactly in the way we wish, but in the best way.” "By the back-door perhaps," said Mrs Harpur. "The 'back-door?' What's that?” "Did I never tell you that story, Mrs Jones?" "Never that I remember; but I love a story, if it wouldn't tire you too much.” "I'll tell it to you, then. It's an old story, but I'll never forget it. God taught me a very precious lesson by it. You knew my Willy?" "Indeed I did. What a son he was to you, Mrs Harpur!" "Willy wasn't always what you knew him, Mrs Jones. Thank God, the great change came long before he left this world. Many a row he joined in, many a midnight quarrel; and often, when the fire was burning low in the grate, and all but myself were gone to bed, I've sat up praying and watching for his return.' "How often I've done that!" sighed Mrs Jones. "Well," continued Mrs Harpur, "one nighthow well I remember it!-twelve, one, two o'clock struck, and no Willy returned. There I sat, keeping my eye on the front door-our house faced the street. My heart grew sick and faint as I watched, until, fearing he must have got into mischief, and would come home with a broken head, I took out the old linen and the plaister, and made all ready for his returning as I expected." "The creature!" ejaculated Mrs Jones. "Well?" "And so the night passed; and when the morning light began to stream down the chimney, and in under the door, I opened the window, and cleaned up the room, and lighted the fire, for it had died out.” "Well, I never! I wonder you ever lived at all." "And then I went up-stairs to wake up the children—I had three then besides Willy," and her voice grew husky, for she was now alone; and Mrs Jones, rising from her chair, suggested that "the soup must be hot long ago, like to be all boiled away, and she'd be the angry one if it were wasted." And so Mrs Harpur had to drink it, saying it was "the best she ever tasted, so strong, it was meat and drink to her." Then, continuing her story: "Well, as I said, I went up to wake the children, and passing Willy's little closet, I looked in, for somehow, when the heart is sorrowful, it loves to indulge itself. So I just looked in to have a cry over the empty bed; and sure enough, the sight almost left my eyes when I saw "Oh!" screamed Mrs Jones, covering her face in the bed-clothes, "not a ghost? Don't tell me you saw that. So far, you and I are as like as two peas, all but the plaister—and I wouldn't see a ghost, nor walk through the churchyard, for your weight in gold!" "No ghost at all," said Mrs Harpur, “but my Willy himself!" "Well, if that wasn't ". "Indeed, it was just himself. He woke up with the noise I made, for I believe I screamed." "And small blame to you, you poor thing! for that same, if you did. Well?” "What's the matter, mother?' he said. 'How are you the first up?' And so I sat down on his bed, and he told me, the dear boy!--for he always loved his mother, he told me how he had come home the night before later than he should, and not wishing to wake me, he came in by the lane and the little back-door, instead of the front, which, as I said, opened on the street, and was right under the room I slept in." "That was considerate! Well?" "And so you see, the Lord had answered my prayer, but I knew it not. I never thought but that if Willy came in at all, it must be by the front door; but he didn't-he came in by the back, and was asleep in his bed many an hour that I spent watching and praying, and spreading the plaister.' "It's a very pretty story, and all the prettier for being true," remarked Mrs Jones; "but will you tell me what has the 'back-door' that you began with, to say to our trouble?"" "Just this, Mrs Jones. That the prayer of faith is always answered, but not always in the way we |