“Good-bye, dears!” said Daph, as she went forth as usual one morning, with her basket on her head. “Good-bye, Daffy, dear Daffy!” said the young voices, and she was gone. Those sweet sounds lingered in the ear of the negro, as she walked along the crowded street, unconscious of all around her, and lost in meditation on the many mercies of her lot. The passers-by noticed her frank, good face, her tidy figure, and snow-white apron; but she seemed to see no one, until, as if struck with sudden frenzy, she gave one leap into the air, exclaiming, “Is I in a blessed dream!” The neat cover flew from the passing basket; far and wide rolled the frosted cakes, and little ragged children made merry with the stores of Daph’s cookery. Little did she care. Her arms were thrown round the knees of an astonished lady, and her lips kissed the hand of the tall, pale gentleman at the lady’s side. “Pull off the crazy woman!” shouted a bystander, stepping forward to suit the action to the word; but Daph had found a protector, in the confidence of whose kindness she would have faced the world. “My own missus! my massa!” sobbed the poor negro, as she clung to the loved and long-mourned friends who stood before her. “Is it you, Daph!” they said, as, little less moved than herself, they raised her from her humble position. “Ise got ’em! Ise got ’em!” she exclaimed. “De childen! Dey’s safe! Ise got ’em! De Lord be praised!” Who can tell the throb of joy that shook that mother’s heart, or the deep emotion that filled the eyes of the strong man with gushing tears! They needed not to tell Daph to lead the way to their treasures. On she sped through street and lane, followed by hurrying footsteps and beating hearts. The small house with the blue shutters was reached, the threshold was crossed! A moment the mother paused, as if to gather strength for the meeting, and then the door was thrown open. In that simple, neat room, sat the fair Louise, her bit of sewing in her hand, while beside her Charlie bent over the book he was reading aloud to his sister. The wondering children were clasped in their mother’s arms, and received their father’s loving embrace; while Daph, almost wild with joy, kept repeating, “You’s no more lone orphans, with only poor old Daph to mind you! De Lord be praised! Daph’s work is done. She be ready to go now, when it pleases de Lord Jesus!” How those parents rejoiced to have their lost ones restored, sound in health, and bearing every evidence of having been trained to habits of neatness, and nurtured in delicacy and refinement! This was joy, indeed; but who shall describe the gladness of the mother when she found her children speaking of the Saviour as a familiar friend, and bearing, however faintly, his image in their hearts! Such joy angels know, when they welcome at the gate of heaven the weary pilgrim of earth, and usher him into the eternal home of the Father!