Brother Gordon said nothing, but quietly regarded the small, earnest face, now becoming a little downcast. "I am nine years old; older than I look," she said. "It is unusual for anyone to be baptized so young," he said, thoughtfully, "We might pray for you though." [Illustration] The brother did not seem to hear as he asked, "You know what being baptized means, Winnie?" "Yes sir"; and she answered a few questions that proved she comprehended the meaning of the step she wished to take. She had slipped off her chair, and now stood close to Brother Gordon's knee. "I want to obey all of God's Word. You said last Sunday, sir, that the lambs should be in the fold." "I did," he answered, with one of his own lovely smiles. "It is surely not for us to keep them out. Go home now, my child. I will see about it." The cloud lifted from the child's face, and her expression, as she passed through the door he opened for her, was one of entire peace. The next week Winnie's desire was granted. Except for occasional information from Miss ---- that she was doing well, Brother Gordon heard no more of her for six months. Then he was summoned to her funeral. It was one of June's hottest days. As the minister made his way along the narrow street where Winnie had lived, he wished for a moment that he had asked his assistant to come in his place; but as he neared the house, the crowd filled him with wonder; progress was hindered, and as perforce he paused for a moment, his eye fell on a crippled lad crying bitterly as he sat on a low door-step. "Did you know Winnie Lewis, my lad?" he asked. "Know her, is it sir? Never a week passed but what she came twice or thrice with a picture or book, mayhaps an apple for me, an' it's owing to her an' no clargy at all that I'll ever follow her blessed footsteps to heaven. She'd read me from her own Bible whenever she came, an' now she's gone there'll be none at all to help me, for mother's dead an' dad's drunk, an' the sunshine's gone from Mike's sky intirely with Winnie, sir." A burst of sobs choked the boy; Brother Gordon passed on, after promising him a visit very soon, and made his way through the crowd of tear-stained, sorrowful faces. The Brother came to a stop on the narrow passageway of the little house. A woman stood beside him drying her fast falling tears while a wee child hid his face in her skirts and wept. "Was Winnie a relative of yours?" the brother asked. "No, sir; but the blessed child was at our house constantly, and when Bob here was sick she nursed and tended him and her hymns quieted him when nothing else seemed to do it. It was just the same with all the neighbors. She took tracts to them all and has prayed with them ever since she was converted, which was three years ago, when she was but six years of age, sir. What she's been to us all no one but the Lord will ever know and now she lies there."