"Oh! May, darling, where did you find these?" exclaimed Amy, without raising her eyes from her occupation, as soon as she heard the step of her little sister. "In the boys' room," replied May; "them papers was all turned out of the old box that Joe made into the hen-roost; it was full of dirty old papers that warn't no use to nobody." "No use!" exclaimed Amy, with unwonted energy. "Oh! May, look—look—here are leaves from a Bible, from God's own Word! I am so happy, so thankful to get them!" And the sick girl pressed a fragment, yellow with age, to her lips. "I thought you'd a whole Bible of your own—what you got at the school as a prize," said May, who did not share, nor understand the pleasure of her sister on finding a few torn leaves. "I gave it to Silas, 'twas my parting present, and oh! How I've longed for a sight of a Bible since!" exclaimed Amy, whose affection for her brother had led her to make what had been to her a sacrifice indeed. "And now God sends me these precious papers! Let's gather out every piece, May, that has any of the Word printed upon it." "Not such a little scrap as this surely," said May, picking up a small fragment that had fallen on the ground. "Let us see what that little scrap holds," said Amy, and taking it from May she read aloud, "'an inheritance undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for'—" * Here the paper was torn, it contained but a part of a verse. But the gaze of Amy rested on it with joy as she cried, "May, May, these few words describe what we look for, long for, the Home prepared up above!" * 1 Peter i. 4. "I don't know what they mean," said May; "what is that long word ''heritance?'" "It has something to do with coming into property, I think," replied Amy. "Don't you remember what father said yesterday evening about the great inheritance in Shropshire which some one of our name had a long long time ago?" "Oh! That meant the great house, with all the hundreds and thousands of acres about it that we hear about, but never see!" laughed May. "But we believe—we believe that there is such place," said Amy. "I don't care much about it, for I know I shall never have it!" cried May. "But if you believed that you might have it, that you certainly would have it one day, that it had been bought and was reserved—that means kept for you, would you care then?" asked Amy, with an eagerness which brought on a violent fit of coughing. It was some time before she had recovered her breathing sufficiently to enable her to go on with the conversation. As soon, however, as Amy could speak, she continued, but in a fainter tone, "Now, May, this is just what I believe about the inheritance in Heaven, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. I believe that there is a bright, happy, glorious Home which the Lord Jesus bought for us, for me, for you, with His own precious blood, and which He is keeping for us, until He has made us ready to enter in, and dwell there for ever."