“That will not be for me.”

Elsli was very much startled.  “But why not, why not?” she asked, anxiously.  “It is certainly for every one; we must all die some time, and then how happy we shall be, when we go there.”

He shook his head again.

“Not for me; it is only for the good.”  He said no more for some minutes, and Elsli sat in silence.  At last he spoke again.

“I could tell you something, but I don’t think you would understand me.  If a man doesn’t get along well in life, and he thinks that God can help him but does not, he says to himself that there’s no use in praying, and he must help himself as he can; and so he grows reckless and does things that are wrong and that he shouldn’t do; then when he comes to die, and he has not thought for a long time anything about God and Heaven, then the door of Paradise does not open to him, and he cannot go in to that happy life.  But why do I talk to you of this?  You cannot understand.”

But Elsli did understand partly, for she remembered hearing her step-mother once say it was easy enough for those to pray who had all they wanted, for they could see that God helped them; but he had never helped her.  And Elsli could hear again the sorrowful tones of her father’s voice as he answered:—­

“If we think that, it will be worse and worse for us; that is not the right way to think.”

These thoughts made Elsli very sad; but presently she roused herself and said she would go into the house and see if she could do something for the sick woman; she would come back by and by, and help him into the house again.  The old man would not let her go, however; he drew her down again upon the fallen tree on which he was sitting.

“No, no; stay here,” he said.  “Let us talk a little more; you are wise COT your age.  Don’t you know some other song?  I should like to hear another.”

Yes; Elsli knew many others; but she could not tell which it would be best to repeat now.  After thinking awhile, she suddenly looked up brightly and said, “I remember one now that perhaps you will like.  Shall I say it?” and as her companion nodded assent, she went on:—­

    “The night draws on—­sped is my day;
      I know my end is near. 
     I raise my trembling hands to pray;
      The grave’s dark road I fear.

    “O God! thou art my only light! 
       Be thou my guiding star! 
     Hide all my trespasses from sight;
      Thy mercies endless are.

    “Look down upon me, Lord!  I bow,
       Repenting of my sin,
     Oh! ope the gates of heaven now,
      And bid me enter in.”

The old man was silent.  In a few moments Elsli arose, and the grandfather rose also, to go back with her into the house.  While with slow and painful steps they regained the door, he said, thoughtfully:—­

“Yes; I heard that long ago when I went to church.  Then, it is still true!  If I could only find my way there!  Will you come to-morrow, my child, and say those verses again?”