Dr. Merry laid down his paper, and coming over to her couch, he read: _"I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the presence of all his people, in the courts of the Lord's house, in the midst of thee, O Jerusalem. Praise ye the Lord!"_--"Well what of that?" he said, looking up, though the tears stood in his eyes, as he watched the little face turned so wistfully toward him. "I want to go to church so much, father," she said, as she saw he understood her. "But, Nannie, I don't think David went to church when he couldn't walk." "He might have been carried," said Nannie, driving back the tears that wanted to come. "Perhaps he was," said her father; "and so might you be, if father thought it right." "Would it hurt me, father?" "I don't know that it would. It might, though; so I think you had better not try. You must be patient, and remember what I've told you, that God sends all these little trials. Do you understand me?" "I think I do." "I like to see my little daughter love God's house, but I like to see her bear it patiently when she can't go there." "I will try," said Nannie, while she kept saying "No!" to the tears as fast as they came. Every little while, however, one wouldn't mind, and would jump over the edge and run down. But she kept on saying, "Be patient, be patient;" and at last the tears got tired of coming, and troubled her no more. She had pulled up an ugly weed called "Impatience" that morning. Soon after, Jack came in with his empty basket. "Well, Nannie, I wish I were in your place--not obliged to go to church, and not sick enough to lose your dinner. I always go to church, for fear, if I'm sick, father'll say, 'Turkey isn't good for headache.' I never thought of such a convenient excuse as spraining my ankle. Let me hear how you did it. It's too late to try it now, but it may do the next time." "O Jack, how you do talk! I'm so glad you're better than you talk." "How do you know that, Miss Nannie?" "Why, everybody knows it. This morning you laughed at me; but as soon as you found out I was really hurt, you drew me and that big basket too on your barrow. You're so kind." Jack whistled a tune and kicked the fire-irons, because he didn't want Nannie to see the tears that started. He was too much of a boy to let them do anything but start. "Jack," Nannie began, after a pause, "why don't you like to go to church?" She was saying to herself all the time, _"In the courts of the Lord's house, in the midst of thee, O Jerusalem."_ "Oh, I don't know; I should like it well enough if father would let me sit up with the rest of the boys in the gallery." "But you wouldn't do as they do in church, Jack?" "Why not?" "It's God's house," said Nannie softly. Jack sat silent for a long time, while Nannie lay looking into the fire, and whispering all the time to herself, "Be patient, be patient."