It was a quaint and lovely picture of Mr. Greatheart, leading the fugitives from the City of Destruction. A dark wood lay behind; a wide river rolled before; Mercy and Christiana pressed close to their faithful guide, who went down the rough and narrow path bearing a cross-hilted sword in his right hand, and holding a sleeping baby with the left. The sun was just rising, and a long ray made a bright path athwart the river, turned Greatheart’s dinted armor to gold, and shone into the brave and tender face that seemed to look beyond the sunrise. “There’s just a hint of Davy in it that is very comforting to me,” said Mrs. Sterling, as she laid her old hands softly together, and looked up with her devout eyes full of love. “Dem women oughter bin black,” murmured Hepsey, tearfully; for she considered David worthy of a place with old John Brown and Colonel Shaw. “The child looks like Pansy, we all think,” added Letty, as the little girl brought her nosegay for Aunty to tie up prettily. Christie said nothing, because she felt too much; and Bella was also silent because she knew too little. But Mrs. Wilkins with her kindly tact changed the subject before it grew painful, and asked with sudden interest: “When be you a goin’ to hold forth agin, Christie? Jest let me know beforehand, and I’ll wear my old gloves: I tore my best ones all to rags clappin’ of you; it was so extra good.” “I don’t deserve any credit for the speech, because it spoke itself, and I couldn’t help it. I had no thought of such a thing till it came over me all at once, and I was up before I knew it. I’m truly glad you liked it, but I shall never make another, unless you think I’d better. You know I always ask your advice, and what is more remarkable usually take it,” said Christie, glad to consult her oracle. “Hadn’t you better rest a little before you begin any new task, my daughter? You have done so much these last years you must be tired,” interrupted Mrs. Sterling, with a look of tender anxiety. “You know I work for two, mother,” answered Christie, with the clear, sweet expression her face always wore when she spoke of David. “I am not tired yet: I hope I never shall be, for without my work I should fall into despair or ennui. There is so much to be done, and it is so delightful to help do it, that I never mean to fold my hands till they are useless. I owe all I can do, for in labor, and the efforts and experiences that grew out of it, I have found independence, education, happiness, and religion.”