of grief. He had to be merry with the merry, loving, happy little baby. They would walk up and down the long parlor hand in hand, while the old man forgot his sorrows as he talked in simple language to the little child. But this desire of his eyes was taken from him at a stroke. In two days scarlet-fever laid her low, and she was buried by the side of her father in the old graveyard in Mendham. Of such bright, gentle, loving, docile, and happy spirits is the kingdom of heaven. Mr. Carter deeply mourned his little granddaughter, and his affections centred again upon the next oldest child, beautiful little golden-haired Kitty. She would nestle up to him saying, “I’m your baby now, Grandpa,” and he poured out a wealth of love upon her. He would make her stand beside him at evening prayers and read the Bible verses alternately with him and her little brother, and he almost always remarked at the close, “I never heard a child read as Kitty does.”
Five weeks from the Sunday when little Annie died, Kitty went with her mother to Dr. Hall’s church, and heard him preach on the whole of the twenty-third Psalm. As soon as the sermon began, she whispered, “Where’s the golden text?” and seemed very much astonished when she found it was a whole Psalm. In coming out of church, as soon as her little feet touched the pavement,—they were never again to stand in any earthly Zion,—she said, “Mamma, I know the golden text,” and she repeated the Psalm through. When her grandfather came in from his church service a little later, she ran up to him before he had a chance to take off his overcoat, and said, “Grandpa, do you want to know the golden text?” and he stood still, hat and cane in hand, to hear her repeat it, the little one evidently enjoying the fact that she was taking him in by giving
