They were talking of the mercies of God, and the unsearchable riches of his grace.

The Dairyman was telling his companion what a blessing the Lord had given him in his daughter.

His countenance brightened as he named her, and called her his precious Betsy.
I met them at a stile not many yards beyond, and accompanied them to the church, which was hard by.
"Sir," said the old man, "I have brought a letter from my daughter, I hope I am in time for divine service.

Seven miles has now become a long walk for me: I grow old and weak.

I am very glad to see you, sir." "How is your daughter ?" "Very poorly indeed, sir,--very poorly.