“He was married, was Joe, to a good, hard-working little wife, and they’d had one daughter.  She married a young plumber who got work at Peterhead, and she had three little boys that their grandfather had never seen.  He had a photograph of them on the mantleshelf with their mother, that she’d sent him one Christmas.  Now one day, an idea came into his head, that if he put by threepence a week, after a good long time, he and his wife could go by a cheap excursion to see those little grandchildren and their mother, just once before they died.  He prayed about it, and then week by week, they began saving up, and the nearer they came to having L3, the more real those little grandchildren of theirs became.  The daughter, you see, wasn’t to be told till all was ready, and then there was going to be a grand surprise.  Well, you know, I got as interested in that saving-up as though it was me that was going the excursion!

“Now Joe, he had the young men’s class in the Sunday-school (all of ’em who weren’t too high up in world to be taught by the sweep), and one day I was looking in at a foundry as I passed, when a young man who was standing out at the door said to me, ‘Have you heard about Joe?’

“‘No!’ I said, rather startled, for he’s a frail old man at the best, ‘What about him?’

“‘Oh, it’s nothing wrong with himself,’ he said, ’but a week ago when he was going out in the early morning—­last Saturday was wet, wasn’t it?—­he found one of them poor street girls fallen down in a faint a few yards away from his house.  He called the missis, and they got her into the kitchen and gave her a cup of tea and put her to bed, and she’ll never get up again, it seems.  She was in a consumption too bad for them to take her at the hospital, so Joe’s keeping her till she wants it no more.’

“I said good-bye to the young man and set off straight to see Joe.  It was afternoon, so he was in when I got there.  He didn’t say much, but we went in to see the girl (she’d got the bed, and the missis slept on the sofa and Joe in the armchair), a poor, breathless, young thing, very near to death.  I began to talk to her of the love of our Saviour, but she stopped me.  ‘Nobody’s ever loved me!’ she said, ’nobody’ll care if I die or not.  I never believed there was any kindness in the world till I met these two.’  We left her gasping there and went into the kitchen.

“‘Poor lost lamb,’ said Joe, ‘them’s sad words to hear.’

“‘Sadder to feel they’re true about so many others as well,’ I said.  ‘But, Joe, be open with me,’ I said, ’have you spent your savings on this poor soul?’

“‘Yes!’ he said, ’all but a few shillings.  She must have milk and nourishment, you know.’

“‘Yes, I know that,’ I said, ’and for the present I can’t help you, but you mustn’t be allowed to spend all you’ve saved.’

“‘Nay,’ he said, ’it was a bitter cross the Lord of Glory carried for my sins.  I can at least do this for one of His lost ones.’