"Ah, ma’am, that’s true, more’s the pity of it. I mind when I was young, like little missy there, my father used to say to me: ’Now, Jemima, my gal, never you do nothing as’ll make you shamed for God Almighty to see, and you may depend upon it, He’ll look to it that you never want.’ Sometimes, when I was young and foolish, I used ter think as there was a many things I wanted, and never got, but now I’m growing old, and the Golden City is very near, I seem quite content-like." "Shall I just read a few words to you?" said Mrs. Drury, as she opened her little pocket Bible at the book of the Revelation. "Aye, please do, ma’am," and the dear old soul lay placidly listening to the beautiful description given by St. John of the New Jerusalem, where there shall be no more pain, hunger, or tears, for those who have been washed in the blood of the Lamb. "Beautiful, beautiful words," murmured old Mrs. Robbins, as she drank in the comforting promises; "we’ll not remember the trials and troubles of this life when we are up yonder." "Now, Amethyst, dear, before we go, just sing a nice hymn for Mrs. Robbins," said Mrs. Drury, to her little daughter, who had been a silent spectator so far. "What might little missy’s name be, ma’am?" enquired the old woman, with some curiosity. "Amethyst," replied Mrs. Drury, with a smile. "An unusual one, isn’t it? but her father and I chose it for a special reason." "’Tis one of the precious stones in the Bible, surely," said Mrs. Robbins; "one of all they long-named things as is going to be in the walls of the golden city." "Yes, it is a Bible name, and has a special meaning, signifying an abhorrence of the drink which is such a curse to our land. We want our little daughter to grow up to be a true Amethyst. Now, dearie, sing your hymn." "Shall it be ’There is a city bright,’ mumsie? Would Mrs. Robbins like that?" "Yes, dear, I am sure she would. Come and stand close by me, and sing very clearly, girlie," and Mrs. Drury took one of the white-gloved hands in her own, and held it lovingly while her little daughter’s clear, childish treble filled the bare room. "There is a city bright Closed are its gates to sin, Naught that defileth, Naught that defileth, Can ever enter in. "Saviour, I come to Thee! Oh, Lamb of God, I pray,-- Cleanse me and save me, Cleanse me and save me, Wash all my sins away. "Lord, make me, from this hour, Thy loving child to be, Kept by Thy power, Kept by Thy power, From all that grieveth Thee. "Till in the snowy dress Of Thy redeemed I stand; Faultless and stainless, Faultless and stainless, Safe in that happy land." "Thank you, my dearie, thank you," said the old woman gratefully, as the last word died away. "And thank you kindly, ma’am, for coming to cheer an old body up."