She loved him _here_, and _there_ she enjoys the pleasures which are at his right hand for evermore." "Mercy, mercy upon a poor old creature, almost broken down with age and grief!--What shall I do!--Betsy's gone.

My daughter's dead--O my child! I shall never see thee more.

God be merciful to me a sinner!" sobbed out the poor mother.
"That last prayer, my dear good woman," said I, "will bring you and your child together again.

It is a cry that has brought thousands to glory.
It brought your daughter there, and I hope it will bring you thither likewise.

God will in no wise cast out any that come to him." "My dear," said the Dairyman, breaking the long silence he had maintained, "let us trust God with our child; and let us trust him with our own selves.