Annie, with the impression of a deep truth upon her soul, felt that now was the time to act, and most faithfully did she perform her duty.  And when, at last, sweet Katie died, with a warm gush of tears she laid one of the flowers that she had gathered from the hill-side upon her bosom, and clasping her arms around her mother’s neck, she said:  “Mother, dear sister is gone, and now I must be both Annie and Katie to you; and if God will help me, I shall be more of a blessing to you than I ever yet have been.”

Oh, it was like a ray of sunshine to that weeping mother’s heart, to hear her once wayward child speak thus! and though it was like taking away the life-drops from her heart to give up her cherished little one, yet she felt there was still a great blessing remaining for her.

Time passed on.  Autumn came with its ripened fruits and golden foliage; winter laid his glittering mantle upon the streams and hill-tops, and spring brought blossoms for little Katie’s grave.

Annie, the gentle Annie, where was she?

Firm to her purpose, she had gone onward.  At times the struggle was hard indeed.  Then she would go to the spring, and kneel down, and talk with her Good Father, until the evil feelings had left her heart, and the cheerful smile came again to her countenance.

At length summer, bright, beautiful summer, beamed over the land once more, and as it drew to a close it brought the day on which Annie was to meet her friend at the spring.

It was the close of the Sabbath, and the last rays of the setting sun streamed through the branches of the trees that surrounded the spring, and tinged its waters with a rosy light.  There sat the old lady, looking anxiously up the road.

“I wonder why she don’t come,” said she.  “Perhaps the young thing has forgotten me.  Sure ’twould be a sorrow to me if I thought she had.”

“No indeed,” said a pleasant voice.  A light form sprang from a clump of bushes close by, and she felt a warm kiss upon her cheek.  “No, I have not forgotten you, but I have come to tell you how happy I am.  Oh, I have seen trouble and sorrow enough, since I saw you; but for all that, I am much happier than I was then.  You told me that I must learn to love everybody, and so I did; and now it seems as if everybody and everything loved me, even our old cat and dog.  Strange, isn’t it?”

“Heart’s dearest!” said the old woman, as soon as she could speak, wiping away the tears from her eyes with the corner of her apron; “there’s a philosophy in all things, even in baking bread and washing dishes; but the true philosophy of life consists in loving and doing; and, blessed be God! that is so plain, that the least of his children can understand it.”

[Illustration]

THE STARVING POOR OF IRELAND.

BY REV.  J.G.  ADAMS.