One day as the widow was returning from a distant field in which she had been helping to reap, she saw thick volumes of smoke rising from the direction of her cottage above the trees which hid it from view. With a feeling of fear she rushed forwards, and terrible was the sight which was soon before her eyes. Her pretty cottage was in flames, the thatch was burning fiercely, and though an engine had come from the town, and firemen and neighbours were doing their best to put out the fire, they could not succeed, and what was once a comfortable home was soon but a heap of ashes. Janet Jones was then, not only a widow, but a very poor widow, and hard work she had had to bring up the two orphan children left to her charge. These were no small troubles, and others, in Janet's place, might have been sorely tempted to murmur. "I wish that 'I' could give poor Granny some proof of love," thought little Annie. "But I have nothing to give, not one penny! To-morrow is New Year's day, and it will be such a sad day to her. Is there nothing that I could do to please her?" Now when we think hard to discover some way of pleasing a friend, we are pretty sure to find one. "I remember," said Annie to herself, "that there was a hymn which took Granny's fancy in a book which Mrs. Brown lent us to read last summer. Granny wished that I could write well enough to copy it out fair on the flyleaf of her large Bible. I can write now much better than I could then. I have no New Year's present to give, but I might copy out that hymn; I am sure that Mrs. Brown would lend me the book again if I asked her. But this is such a little, such a 'very' little thing to do for my Granny. Ah! I would do much more if I earned wages like Joe!" Copying out a hymn was a very little thing, but it was a "proof of love," and a proof that cost Annie some self-denial. She did not like writing at all, and she knew that it would take her hours to copy out six verses quite neatly, taking care not to make one blot. She resolved however to do so, and ran out again into the snow, and went over to Mrs. Brown's to ask her to lend her the book. Mrs. Brown had a large cheerful home, and four merry little children full of play. "Oh! Annie, we're so glad you've come!" cried the eldest, clapping her hands as Annie entered. "I hope you'll stop all day with us," said kind Mrs. Brown, who knew that the girl had a very dull home. "Oh! Yes,—stop, stop!" cried Charlie Brown. "We're to have roast beef and roley-poley, 'cause it's the last day in the year." "And grandfather's coming, and he tells us such famous stories,—we'll have games, and all sorts of fun!" exclaimed little Bess. Annie longed to stop to share the food and the fun. She hesitated, but only for a moment. She had real love for her Granny, and gave a proof of it at once. "No, thank you so much," she said, "but I cannot leave poor Granny to spend the last day of the year by herself."