faithfully of Jesus Christ, and with weary arms seizing the pine-trunk which was his staff when the floods swelled high, he waded through the water, but saw no pilgrim there; so he thought, ‘I was dreaming,’ and went back and lay down to sleep. Again came the little voice, plaintive and touching, ‘Offerus, good, dear, great, tall Offerus, carry me across.’ Patiently the old giant crossed the river again; but neither man nor mouse was to be seen; and he went back again, and fell asleep, when once more came the little voice, clear, and plaintive, and imploring, “Good, dear, giant Offerus, carry me across.” The third time he seized his pine-stem, and went through the cold river. This time he found a tender, fair little boy, with golden hair. In his left hand was the standard of the Lamb; in his right, the globe. He looked at the giant with eyes full of love and trust, and Offerus lifted him up with two fingers; but when he entered the river, the little child weighed on him like a ton. Heavier and heavier grew the weight, until the water almost reached his chin; great drops of sweat stood on his brow, and he had nearly sunk in the stream with the little one. However, he struggled through, and, tottering to the other side, set the child gently down on the bank, and said, ‘My little Lord, prithee, come not this way again, for scarcely have I escaped this time with life.’ But the fair child baptized Offerus on the spot, and said to him, ‘Know, all thy sins are forgiven; and, although thy limbs tottered, fear not, nor marvel, but rejoice; thou hast carried the Saviour of the world! For a token, plant thy pine-trunk, so long dead and leafless, in the earth; to-morrow it shall shoot out green twigs. And henceforth thou shalt not be called Offerus, but Christopher.’ Then Christopher folded his arms, and prayed, and said, ‘I feel my end draws nigh. My limbs tremble; my strength fails; and God has forgiven me all my sins.’ Thereupon the child vanished in light; and Christopher set his staff in the earth. And so, on the morrow, it shot out green leaves and red blossoms, like an almond. And three days afterwards the angels carried Christopher to Paradise.” Anna’s eyes swam in tears as Gutenberg finished his graphic and touching rehearsal, and she said, “A most hopeful history. May you, my husband, worthily achieve some good work, like St. Christopher!” “Aye, dear; and, God helping me I will do something: the world is full of useful labor, which calleth for willing hearts and hands. And the Lord Christ meeteth with his blessing the patient laborers who faint not.” “I can never think,” said the wife, “of equaling St. Christopher or thee in good works, since I am neither strong nor wise; but I will even do what I can, and help thee bear thy burdens. But it may be the gentle Christ will freely _give_ me eternal life, since I have no means to purchase it.” “Aye, Anna, that would be so like Him: and to me also, for I am no saint, and dare not hope to be.”