The little girl thanked him and hurried away. The next day, and the next, and many days passed away, but the poor child never came to hear about Jesus again. Some time after this a rough-looking woman came into the bookstore, and said in a loud voice, “Dixey’s dead! She died rambling about some Good Shepherd, and she said you were to have these six cents for the mission-box at school. I don’t like to keep dead people’s money, so here it is,” and throwing the six cents down on the counter, she hurried out of the store. The six cents were put into the missionary box on the next Sunday, and when the story of Dixey was told it touched so many hearts and led so many to follow her example with their pennies that by the end of the year “Dixey’s cents,” as they were called, had brought in money enough to send out a missionary to China, to help in finding out the lost sheep and bringing them to Jesus. And if little Dixey, in her feebleness and poverty, could help to carry out our Saviour’s last command, then we may all do so. But there are other things than money that may be given to the work of saving lost souls. We see this illustrated in the following story. It may be called: “The Rescue.” “O my child, my child!” cried an almost heart-broken mother, as she met a party of gentlemen, among the hills of Scotland. “What’s the matter?” they asked. “A few hours ago I left the house and my baby-boy in charge of his sister. Being a fine day, he was lying in the cradle, outside the cottage-door, prattling away in the sunshine. After awhile, baby fell asleep, and my little girl being hungry, went in-doors to get some food. While she was lingering there, I returned, but only in time to see an eagle bearing away my child in his talons. O sirs! pity me, help me, recover my darling child.” The mother’s loving eye had watched the flight of the eagle; and with these gentlemen she went to the edge of the cliff, and looking over the precipice they could see, far down its steep sides, the nest of the eagles, to which the child had been carried. The distress of the mother touched the heart of one of the gentleman who was a Scotch nobleman. He resolved, by God’s help, to try and snatch the child from the terrible death that awaited it. Ropes were procured, and at his own request, the nobleman was lowered down over the rugged cliff. The two eagles fluttered round, as if daring the intruder to approach their nest; but a brave heart was beating beneath that Scotch plaid. Fearlessly the heroic Scotchman approached the nest. He took the child from among the young eagles. He bound it to his bosom, and gave the signal to be pulled up. Gently, but steadily, he was raised in safety to the top of the cliff; and with a glad heart he gave back the recovered child to the arms of its grateful and rejoicing mother.