letting one's self be all His."

Charlie seemed to be thinking of something else then, and he spoke out in earnest:

"Doesn't the Bible say we ought to send missionaries everywhere in the world?"

"It says we must 'Go', yes."

"Were there heathen fifty years ago?"

"Yes."

"Well, then why didn't we send lots of missionaries fifty years ago? I wish I could go."

"Do you want to know, Charlie, how you can tell if you can be a missionary when you are a man?"

"Yes sir," said Charlie.

"Be a little missionary now. Be a Christian. Get new scholars to come to Sunday school. Live for other people all you can. One little person quit eating candy, and gave the money for the Lord, another bought a dozen eggs and raised chickens and sold them for the Lord. A little farmer boy raised potatoes on a little corner of land his papa said he could have, and then sold them for missionary money, and there are many other ways."

"Oh, I know, I know what I'll do!" said several at once. "I'm so thirsty."

"So am I." "No, wait." "Come on."

"We can all do something, then, can't we? I'm dry too."

And the one who was answering questions, together with for six little people, who had gathered around him, went out under the grape arbor, and down by the row of evergreens to the spring, and they all drank heartily from the old tin cup.

An hour later all the visitors had their faces turned toward home, and the children were thinking about being little missionaries at home.

CHAPTER V.

A CHILD OF GOD.

A good many months had passed since Charlie lost the nickel between the store and his home. He had often spoken about his desire to be a real Christian. He was going to school every day, and had more than the average of school-boy-liveliness.

Several years had passed since he and one of the little Sunday school girls swinging in the shade of the old apple tree, had each promised the other to begin to be a Christian while they were young in years. The little girl was first to fulfil her promise, and was now an active little member of the church, praising God by her daily life. He thought more of her for her decision, but he himself was not yet a member of the church, and was already twelve years old.

Brother Early had been preaching every night in Waynesboro for several weeks. A good many people, who lived not too far away from Waynesboro, often drove in to attend the meetings. Charlie was usually on hand, an attentive listener.

On the way home one Sunday night Charlie broke the monotonous rumble of the carriage by asking, "Mamma, do you think I'd be saved if I'd die?"

And his mamma answered, "Well Charlie, indeed I don't know what to tell you," and no one said anything further for a moment, which seemed ever so long.

"What do you say about it, papa?" continued Charlie in a very earnest, pleading tone of voice.

"You have asked a pretty hard question," said his papa. "Just at this time of your life we cannot know. God is just, and may be you'd be saved—may be not." After several minutes, which seemed almost like hours, as the carriage moved slowly up the hill, his mamma, ever anxious about her boy, as all mammas are, said, "Why do you ask such questions, Charlie?"

"Well, mamma," he answered, "I can't stand it any longer. My heart pretty near breaks when we are at meeting. I do wish I could join the church."

Now, his parents had talked the matter all over by themselves, and they had decided to allow Charlie to come at this time, if he really wanted to, and they would also encourage their son. When he had thus spoken, they told him the words that his boyish heart had been aching to hear for already so long a time, that he should "come now," if he wished.

The next evening Charlie lost no time in publicly coming out on the Lord's side.

"Brother Oller," said he, "I'm coming. It's decided. I want to be baptized and live a Christian."

The aged elder stooped to the eager boy before him, and tenderly answered, "Well, Charlie, the Lord bless you. The lambs are always welcome in the flock. I hope you will be able to be a valiant soldier for Christ. The Lord bless you, my dear boy."

On the way home that night, Charlie's heart was glad within him. How different it was from the night before. He was soon to be a soldier for Jesus. It did not seem to take long at all to go home, and the hills did not seem so steep, and the night did not seem so dark. He could now see the bright side of life, better than ever before.

While his papa was out at the barn, putting away the horse and carriage, Charlie was talking to his mamma in the house.

"I wish now we had family worship. Mamma, why don't we have family worship, anyhow?"

"Well, I don't know, Charlie, just why we don't," said mamma.

"Well, mamma, papa ought to have it. Other members do, don't they?"

"I guess papa feels a little timid about leading in prayer," said his mamma. "That's all the reason I know."

"Well, I tell you, I'll do my part. I'll take my turn always, if we just can have family worship every day. Won't you ask papa? I think he will."

Sunday was the day for baptism. Two of the brethren came on a visit to examine those to be baptized, before the day for baptism, to learn if they were ready for the holy ordinance, and if they were willing to take the New Testament as the rule of faith and practice, and to walk in harmony with the church.

THE STREAM BELOW THE BRIDGE.

Charlie's answers were clear and well-defined. The brethren had quite a pleasant visit with him, and they went away feeling that children were very fit subjects for the church, "for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

There were thirteen baptized that day, and a large number of people witnessed the scene. It seemed, as we read about it in the Bible, like apostolic times, as one after another was led down into the stream of water near the bridge, and was there buried in baptism.

When Charlie arose from his knees, while they were yet in the water, the minister, Brother Price, greeted him with a kiss.

After the baptisms, all the people soon went away to their homes, but of all that number, thirteen went away feeling the joy of having entered into a blessed experience, which they had not known before.

That Sunday night the voice of prayer was heard in the home of the Newcomers. Family worship was a daily service there from that time on. Every evening before going to bed the little family would sing a hymn, read a portion of Scripture, and then all kneel down together and pray. And Charlie, true to his promise, and but a boy, yet a Christian boy, would always take his turn, in reading, in leading in prayer, and in closing with the Lord's prayer.

CHAPTER VI.

A SATURDAY AT HOME.

After we are once six years old, the most of us have to spend more days, as children, in the school than out of it; and whether Saturday does us very much good, I do not know. The lessons are nearly always not as well prepared on Monday