"Yes, sir, I am alone in the world, but yet not alone, for the Saviour is often with me in my humble dwelling, and I hope in a little while He'll come and take me to His home above." "That is a blessed hope to cheer and make you patient to wait His time, my friend," was the rejoinder. "Have you been left long alone?" "The last went home twenty years ago, come Michaelmas," said the aged host. "It has been whiles a weary waiting-time, but it's sinful to repine. His time must be the right time." Whilst the old man went to fetch the tea, the guest looked round and observed some articles of carved wood--boxes, flat rulers, and leaf-cutters--and was struck with the frequent recurrence of short words of Holy Writ on the Sabbath. Some little books lay on the window-sill, many of which were on the same subject. After impressively asking God's blessing, and whilst partaking of the simple meal, the visitor remarked-- "I see the sanctity of the Lord's Day is a strong point with you. I was struck this morning with the expression you used to those lads--'_the cost of a broken Sabbath_.'" [Illustration: "THE OLD MAN SAT WITH HIS BIG BIBLE." (_See page 132._)] No response came for some minutes, as if the host was debating some question with himself; and so it proved, for at last he raised his head and said, with a vast depth of pathos in his tones-- "None have had greater reason to know the bitter cost, sir, than myself. It is not often that I speak of the past, but it may be the Lord has brought you here for a purpose to-day, and you may be able to use it as a warning to some within your influence." "If your story will not be too painful to you, my friend, I should indeed feel grateful to you for it," was the response.