She did love God; she did wish to please Jesus all the day, more than anything else in the world; and yet here she was vexed and irritated by the unalterable things in her lot, which (she told herself) her mother could alter, but did not, and which galled and fretted her almost past endurance. Was there any remedy, or must she go home just as burdened as she came out? The thrush still sang, though the dusk was falling now upon tree and meadow. Nellie felt she must go, but how could she till she had found rest? Ah! With a start of joy, she raised her head. Rest? Then the words of her Saviour flashed upon her, "Come unto ME all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of ME." Nellie saw it now, and the struggle was ended. She had been wanting her own will and her own way; she had been wanting to set the crooked things straight herself, but it was only God who could do it for her, after all. The Missioner had said the yoke of Christ, under which he walked so patiently, was the Will of God. Was that the solution of all her home frets and worries? The Will of God! Yes, she would take it. She would do as Christ said, "Take the yoke upon her," and so find rest! Such a peace stole over her that she could have cried her heart out; but she knew she would be missed; and with an inward thanksgiving too deep for words, she ran along the dark lane, and soon entered the lighted cottage. She kissed her mother silently, and hastened upstairs, saying only, "I sha'n't be a minute," and when she came down, they wondered at her brightness, but did not know that in finding rest of heart in Jesus, her life had been "transfigured." CHAPTER X. THE EARWIG. WHEN I was a little child of about five, I remember very well how we used to play in the garden all the long summer days, and how insects and toads, hedgehogs and beetles, were our playthings, besides the intense enjoyment of climbing trees, high swinging, and other delights. But fond as we were of insects, I had the most shrinking fear of an earwig. One day, I thought I felt something crawl down my neck, and in an agony I asked my little brothers and sisters, and I daresay our busy nurse, to see if they could find it. Nobody took any heed of my distress, till, in some way, I suppose, I came across my father. I never had any reason to doubt his tenderness, and whether he guessed there was something wrong, or whether I ran to him and explained, I cannot now remember. But what is indelibly impressed on my memory is this. He took me at once to his room, and while cheeringly assuring me that even if it were an earwig, it would do me no harm, he began with the utmost tenderness to take off my frock, and to peep about my little shoulders; and still not finding it, he took off garment by garment, till he satisfied himself and me that no earwig was there. Then he dressed me again, and with comforted heart we went downstairs together.