Mamma smiled at her little girl's impetuosity, then in grave, tender tones, said, "And is there not some One else more deserving of love and thanks than even papa and mamma?" "God, our kind heavenly Father," murmured little Elsie, happy, grateful tears shining in her soft eyes. "Yes, it is from his kind hand all our blessings come." "I love God," said Harold, "and so does Fank: Mamma, can Fank come up here to play wis me?" "Yes, indeed: Frank is a dear, good little boy, and I like to have you together." Mamma unlocked the door of a large light closet, as she spoke, and the children, looking eagerly in, saw that its shelves were filled with beautiful toys. "Grandma's things!" they said softly. "Yes, these are what my dear mother played with when she was a little girl like Elsie and Vi" said mamma. "You may look at them." There was a large babyhouse, beautifully furnished; there were many dolls of various sizes, and little chests and trunks full of nicely made clothes for them to wear--night-clothes, morning wrappers, gay silks and lovely white dresses, bonnets and hats, shoes and stockings too, and ribbons and laces, for the lady dolls; and for the gentlemen, coats, hats, vests, cravats and everything that real grown-up men wear; and for the baby dolls there were many suits of beautiful baby clothes; and all made so that they could be easily taken off and put on again. There were cradles to rock the babies in, and coaches for them to ride in; there were dinner and tea-sets of the finest china and of solid silver; indeed almost everything in the shape of toys that the childish heart could desire. The lonely little girl had not lacked for any pleasure that money could procure: but she had hungered for that best earthly gift--the love of father, mother, brothers and sisters--which can be neither bought nor sold. The children examined all these things with intense interest and a sort of wondering awe, then begged their mother to tell them again about "dear grandma." They had heard the story--all that mamma and mammy could tell--many times, but it never lost its charm. "Yes, dears, I will: I love to think and speak of her," Elsie said, sitting down in a low chair while they gathered closely round her, the older two, one on each side, the others leaning upon her lap. "Mamma, it is a sad story; but I love it," little Elsie said, drawing a deep sigh, as the tale came to an end. "Yes, poor little girl, playing up here all alone," said Eddie. "'Cept mammy," corrected Vi. "Yes, mammy to love her and take care of her, but no brother or sister to play with, and no dear mamma or papa like ours." "Yes, poor dear grandma!" sighed little Elsie. "And it was almost as hard for you, mamma, when you were a little girl: didn't you feel very sad?" "Ah, daughter, I had Jesus to love me, and help me in all my childish griefs and troubles," the mother answered, with a glad smile; "and mammy to hug and kiss and love me just as she does you."