NOT a long journey this time. It was a bright Sabbath afternoon, and I walked own Gilbert avenue, then McMillan avenue, then Kibbe street, until I came to a large new building into which all the world seemed to be trying to crowd. We were late; the sound of many voices in song made us try to hasten, but the crowd was so great that this was not easy to do. On the way, Sabbath though it was, we had passed many crowds of a different sort. Men and women pushing into street cars, talking loud and laughing gayly, on their way to park, or garden, or theatre. On the corners were crowds of boys, talking, spitting, swearing; we passed saloons out of which reeled drunken men; in short, we passed places and people which did not make us think of Sunday at all. But this was different. The singing was very sweet; the room was large, and had many windows; the walls were white, and everything was fresh and new. The floor was carpeted, and seated with chairs, and every chair was filled; so also were the aisles, and the doorways leading into the side rooms. But the great evergreen letters on the space opposite the main door, said-- WELCOME. And the ushers came forward cordially and motioned us in, saying cheerily, "Always room here for one more." So we elbowed and wedged our way. What was going on? Why, this was the dedication of Bethany Chapel, the room for which the young men and the young women up on these Hills have been working for years. Yesterday it was in order. On the wall hung a motto at which everybody looked and smiled. It was a very pretty motto: FAITH IN ACTION. Those were the words; and looking about the pretty room, one could not help feeling that there must have been a good deal of it in action to have given us such results. But I noticed that people looked beyond the motto at the nail from which it hung. A gold nail! Very large, and entirely covered with gold. That was certainly a new kind of nail. I wondered what it meant; presently the superintendent of the school told us about it. It seems that, a long time before, the teachers had explained to their scholars just what was to be done, and just how much money, and time, and work, it would take, and how much help would be needed. Among others, the primary teacher had explained very carefully to her little bits, and had said: "Now we all want to help; every little girl and every little boy must do something; I am sure you each want a nail in the new building. Don't you?" Then of course every one of them said "Yes, ma'am," in their eager little voices; and then I suppose some of them went home and forgot all about it. Not so little Faith whose story I am going to tell you. She thought it over, fixing all the powers of her mind on it. She talked it over with her particular friend Robbie, as he worked with the scissors and a sheet of paper trying to cut a pattern for a new kind of cart wheel which he intended to make.