Annie soon returned to her cottage with the book containing the hymn. She got down the little bottle of ink, and a pen, and began her copying work, while old Janet sat gloomy and sad by the fire, never speaking a word except to abuse ungrateful Joe. It was well that Annie had to give much attention to what she was doing, so that she scarcely heard what her Granny was muttering to herself. The verses are so beautiful that they took up Annie's thoughts as she wrote. They are so suitable for the New Year that I will copy them out for my readers, as Annie did for her Granny. I wish that each would learn by heart the loving questions which the Saviour, in this hymn, asks alike of the old and the young: "I gave My life for thee, My precious blood I shed, That thou mightest ransomed be, And quickened from the dead. I give My life for thee, WHAT HAST THOU GIVEN FOR ME? "I spent long years for thee, In weariness and woe, That one eternity Of joy thou mightest know. I spent long years for thee, Hast thou spent ONE for Me? "My Father's house of light, My rainbow-circled throne, I left for earthly night, For wand'rings sad and lone. I left it all for thee, Hast thou left AUGHT for Me? "I suffered much for thee, More than thy tongue can tell, Of bitterest agony, To rescue thee from Hell. I suffered much for thee, WHAT DOST THOU BEAR FOR ME? "And I have brought to thee, Down from My home above, Salvation full and free, My pardon, and My love. Great gifts I brought to thee, WHAT HAST THOU BROUGHT TO ME? "Oh! let thy life be given, Thy years for Me be spent World fetters all be riven, And joy with suffering blent, I gave MYSELF for thee, Give thou THYSELF to Me?" CHAPTER II. NEW YEAR'S morning dawned bright and clear; the pure snow gleamed like diamonds in the rays of the glorious sun, but old Janet rose with a heavy heart and a gloomy brow. She thought of the landlord calling for the rent; she thought of her neighbours in their merry homes, and of her grandson living in comfort in London; she thought of everyone being happy but herself. If Janet thought also of God, I fear that it was with little faith, little trust. She was so gloomy and sad that she did not even smile at poor Annie when they first met, or wish her a happy New Year. Annie watched her Granny as she went up to the table on which lay her large Bible open at the place where the child, as neatly as she could, had copied out the hymn. Annie saw her Granny take out her spectacles, slowly wipe them, put them on, and then sit down to read, as she always read while the water was boiling for breakfast. "I hope that Granny will be pleased," thought Annie. "I hope that she will like the hymn now as she did in the summer, and know that I copied it out as a little proof of my love. But dear me! What is the matter! Granny is crying—crying over the hymn!"