“Put on my stockings, this minute, Daph! You are so slow!” said Louise, one morning, putting out her white foot imperatively towards the kneeling negro. “Yes, yes, Miss Lou,” said Daph, humbly, “Daph do be radder slow; but somehow she isn’t so spry as she used to be.” This was not the only complaint that Louise had to make that morning; every thing seemed to go wrong with her, and Charlie declared, “Sister Lou” was so cross that he had rather go and play in the garden alone, than stay anywhere near her. Daph gave a sorrowful look at her young mistress, and then went to the kitchen to prepare some of the tempting cakes which were now in such demand, and Louise was left quite alone. She took up a piece of sewing on which Rose had been patiently trying to teach her to hem; but the thread “went in knots,” the needle pricked her finger, and she threw the work down in despair, and began to cry with all her might. The door softly opened and a gentle hand was laid upon her shoulder. “What grieves you, darling?” said the sweet voice of Rose Stuyvesant. “Oh, oh!” exclaimed the little girl, not looking up, “I have been so cross and naughty all this morning, I do not believe I am one of the Lord Jesus’ little lambs, at all, and I am very, very unhappy!” Rose sat down beside her little friend, and throwing her arm tenderly around her, she said, “You must not be discouraged, my darling, listen now to me. Suppose that you were so very sick, that if you did not soon get better, you would surely die. Now, suppose a kind physician should come to you and offer you some medicine that would check your fever, and save you from the death that was so near. How you would love him, and how willingly you would do all that he said was necessary for you. It might be many, many weeks before you were quite well; but how patiently you would take the medicines he ordered, and how cheerfully you would follow his advice, until you were again full of health and strength. And when you could walk about once more and breathe the sweet, fresh air, then you would be most warmly grateful to the kind physician who had come to your sick bed, and saved you from expected death. Dear Louise, Christ has shed his blood to save you from everlasting death, which is very near to all who are not the true children of God. Whenever you put your trust in the dear Saviour, you are safe from that death; but it may be long, long before your heart will be clean from sin, and your bad habits will be wholly cured. What says the kind physician to you? ‘Watch and pray. Strive to enter in at the strait gate.’ You must be willing to struggle, patiently, against your faults, trying to do right, and looking to God for strength to go on. You must go forward cheerfully and hopefully, thinking of what Christ has done for you, and dwelling on that happy time when you will be safe in Heaven, and your heart will be full of gratitude to Him who has saved your soul from death, and purified you by His grace.