At that home Rose Stuyvesant was received as a loved friend, and made a sharer in the pure joy she had assisted in laying up for the happy parents. There Diedrich Stuyvesant had been welcomed as an honored guest, and there Captain Jones had seen, in the united family, something which gave his kind heart more joy than did the warm expressions of gratitude that were lavished upon him, or the more substantial favors that were bestowed with no stinted hand on the honest sailor. Even Mary Ray and her invalid suffering mother experienced the cheering influence that flowed from that happy home, and felt that, although their lodgers were gone, they had in them still warm and powerful friends. In the midst of this grateful rejoicing was Daph forgotten? No! Among the loved and honored, she was best loved and most cared for. In the neat room assigned to her was clustered every comfort that could smooth the declining years or cheer the humble spirit of the faithful negro. She prized each token of loving remembrance that made that room beautiful in her eyes; but dearest to her was the Bible with the golden clasps, which lay on her table, placed there by her mistress, with words which filled the heart of Daph with tearful joy. “Where is Daph this morning?” asked Gen. Latourette at the breakfast table; “I did not see her dear old face in the hall, as I came down.” “She is not awake yet,” said the wife; “I told the children they must not rouse her. She must take her rest; her days of labor are over.” “God grant that our work may be as well done!” said the father, solemnly. Later in the day, the children could not be kept from “just looking at dear Daffy, even if she were asleep.” The family party entered the quiet room. The sunbeams shone across the floor with cheerful light; but they were dark to the gaze of Daph, for she was beholding the unveiled glory of the Sun of Righteousness. The voice of earthly affection could wake her no more, for she had listened to the welcome of angels, and heard the voice of her Saviour declare, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!” TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: Text in italics is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. Some contractions are obviously intentionally separated and have been retained as such from the original, e.g. “shouldn’t” appears as “should n’t.” End of Project Gutenberg's The Babes in the Basket, by Sarah Schoonmaker Baker