among other things, "Shem, Ham, Japheth, Gomer, Magog, Madai, Javan," and so on through the long list. The dying girl vainly tried to follow her as her voice grew fainter and fainter, for she was, with all her failing strength, clinging to this false hope as she passed out into eternity.
Some years later, the young man who had gotten the Bible in such a curious way, married and left the old house to live at the wife's homestead. One evening, as the old father sat in his usual place reading, the husband said: "Anninha, what is that book your father is always reading?"
"That," she replied, "is the Bible. He often tells me about what he reads, and it is very interesting. I wish I could read it for myself; but it is a French book, and I can read only Portuguese."
"If it is called the 'Holy Bible,'" said he, "then my mother has it in Portuguese, for I gave it to her long ago. I never read it myself, but she used to learn things out of it for prayers. They never sounded very interesting to me."
"Could you get it for me, Jose?" she asked.
"Yes; I will go over and ask mother for it tomorrow," promised he.
When the wife got the Bible, she carried it to her father, who was much pleased to find this favorite book in his native tongue, and, opening it at the New Testament, he began to read aloud. The young couple listened and soon grew so interested that they begged him to go on, till they kept him reading late into the night. Deeply touched by the "old, old story of Jesus
