Joe, with his closely cut black hair, his grateful eyes, new gray suit with navy blue flannel shirt, rough shoes, willing and efficient ways, and his great love for Doodles, was some one not at all out of place on the “Sparrow farm;” even dainty Judith did not altogether disapprove his presence at the table. The small disciple’s forehead was all in a pucker, and the blue eyes were so filled with tears that there was not room enough in her eyes for them; one tear kept pushing another down over her cheeks; they even rolled over her lips and tasted salt. “Have you noticed the name on my new darning yarn?” inquired Aunt Affy, replacing the New Testament on the table. “Superior quality,” read Judith, taking the card from the basket Aunt Affy brought to her lap from the table. “No; on the top.” “Dorcas,” read Judith. “Dorcas. Who is that for?” “The name of the man who made it,” replied Judith, stopping her dawdling and threading her needle. “I think not.” “His little girl’s name, perhaps,” ventured Judith. “It may be, for aught I know; but I do not _think_ that is the name of the wool.” “Then I don’t know,” said Judith, interestedly. “I know something and I will tell you. A long, long, _long_ time ago, there was a little girl; I think she learned to sew when she was a little girl, for she knew how to sew beautifully, and her work was strong and did not rip easily. Perhaps she began by doing disagreeable things and then went on to other things until she learned how to make coats and garments for children and grown-up people. Her name was Dorcas.” “Did the man who made the wool into yarn know about her?” asked Judith. “I think so. Almost everybody does.” “I never heard of her before. Is that all?” “No; that is only the beginning. She was a disciple. And disciples always love each other and work for each other.” “Do they?” asked Judith, her face glowing. Why, that was splendid and easy. “And she worked for widows and perhaps for their little children, and they loved her dearly. But she died, and oh, how they grieved! They sent for another disciple, Peter; they thought he could help them. His faith was so great that he kneeled down and prayed; then he spoke to her, and she opened her eyes, and looked at him, and then she sat up. And then he called the people she had made coats and garments for, and in great joy they had her back alive again. God was willing for her to come back to earth and go on with her beautiful work. He cares for the work of his disciples, even when it is only using thread and needle.” Judith’s curly head drooped over her hated work; she was so ashamed of behaving “ugly”; she hoped she had not behaved quite as ugly as she felt. The ball was the required size at last, and she joyfully took it up in the garret to the barrel that was only half filled.