Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace.

Thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting.

They praised the Lord, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid.

Give us help from trouble: for vain is the help of man.

"It's the little chick's turn," Rollo said, good-naturedly, so the "little chick" had it, and the first verse on the paper was taken.

"Yes," said Grandma, "I knew the boy very well indeed who believed that, and lived by it; and he got his help too in the way that he least expected; just as help is apt to come. He was a little fellow when I was quite a young woman. We visited, my brother and I, at a house which was only across the street from a famous boarding-school for boys. There was one little fellow in that school whom I used to watch, because he looked like my little brother at home; he seemed very small to be in boarding-school. I wondered if he was homesick, and sometimes cried himself to sleep as my brother did the first time he went to uncle Daniel's alone on a visit.

"Miss Harriet Peabody was the mistress of this house where I visited; she was a maiden lady, the aunt of the boy and girl who were our friends; a good kind woman, but a little prim in her ways. I remember she never dressed quite in the fashion; her clothes were very nice, and beautifully made, and cost a trifle more, if anything, than those of her neighbors, but they were always made a little behind the styles, as though she thought things which were a little out of fashion were less wicked, some way, than others.

"The young folks of the neighborhood, and especially the boys of the boarding-school, were inclined to make sport of her; this always made me indignant, for I loved Miss Harriet. One evening we were seated in the library, having the cosiest time; the boys had popped some corn, and cracked nuts, and we had apples and cider; in those days an evening wasn't really finished without a pitcher of cider; Miss Harriet sat by the window, and said suddenly: 'Hark! what is that? didn't you hear a child crying?'

"We listened, and said no, we heard nothing. Her nephew suggested dogs, and doves, and owls, but Miss Harriet insisted that she heard a child.

"We were soon in the very merriest of our fun, and forgot all about the noise; but it seems Miss Harriet didn't. I don't know just when she slipped out, but just as Tom Peabody was flinging an apple paring over his left shoulder, to see if he couldn't make the first letter of my name, in walked Miss Harriet, dripping with rain and holding by the hand a little frightened boy; and he was the very boy I had watched from the window so often! He was wet to the skin, and shivering as though he had an ague fit. We all jumped up, and gathered about asking questions, but Miss Harriet waved us off. 'Not yet,' she said. 'The poor fellow is wet and cold; Tom, take him up to the bath-room, and get him some of Robbie's clothes and help him dress; then bring him down to get some nuts and apples.'

"Tom went off to do her bidding, and the rest of us questioned her. 'I don't know much about it, yet,' she said, 'but I mean to; there's been some mean business going on, or I'm mistaken. I knew I heard a child crying; when I couldn't stand it any longer, I lighted the lantern and went out to look around; I found the sobs came from our old coal shed which hasn't been used in six months. I listened at the end door, and I heard the little fellow sob out: "I know you are able to do it, O, Lord, and if you only would!" Then I walked around to the other door, and found it was fastened on the outside by a good-sized rope slipped through the latch, and wound around the big nail. Of course I unfastened it and walked in; and here was this little morsel crouched in a corner, dripping with rain, as it pelted down on him from the roof. He seemed dreadfully scared at seeing me, and began to protest that he had done nothing wrong, and did not want to be hiding there; but I told him to come in and get warm, and then we would talk about it.'

"When the boy came down with dry clothes on, he looked less frightened than before; and we established him in a big chair and gave him plenty of nuts, and a glass of cider; I poured it out with my own hands; you needn't look so shocked at Grandmother, Harold, I didn't know any better in those days. He had a real pleasant evening, and Miss Harriet invited him to stay all night, because it rained so hard, and sent her black Toby over to the school to ask permission for him, and told him she would make it all right in the morning. He seemed to be so glad to think he had not to go back to the school, that we knew something must be wrong; but it was not until he went up to bed with Robbie, that Tom told us about it.

"'Those scamps over there,' said Tom, his eyes flashing, 'they deserve a whipping, and I will help get it for them. There are half a dozen great boys always in mischief of one sort or other. It seems they have made a kind of slave of this little fellow; his mother is dead, and he is the youngest boy in school; they have made him run errands, and do all sorts of things for them; to-night they planned that he was to go down to Jordon's and get them some nuts, and raisins, and cider, and cake, and smuggle it into their rooms after hours, for them to have what they call a 'spread.' And it seems the little chap had the pluck to refuse to do it, because it was against the rules. They had a stormy time, and finally they threatened to lock him up in a hole where he would have to spend the night, and how much longer they could not tell. It seems he is timid in the dark, and they knew it. He was awfully afraid, he told me, "but then I couldn't do wrong, you know," he said, and his eyes were as blue as the sky, when he looked up in my face. Well, the rascals blindfolded him, and led him around and around the grounds, I presume, for he thought he walked a mile or more; then thrust him into a dark hole, and fastened the door and left him. When he pushed off the bandage from his eyes, no light was to be seen; he had not the least idea where he was, but thought it was somewhere in the woods, and he was dreadfully afraid, and cried aloud, he says, but he was sure no one could hear him. Then he remembered about the fiery furnace, and what the men said about God being able to deliver, and he got down in the dark and prayed for deliverance; but he says he didn't feel sure it would come; he was only sure that God was able to do it if he thought best. He hadn't an idea, when he saw aunt Harriet, that she had come to answer his prayer. He knew her, and for some reason the little chap was afraid of her. He thought that she had been told that he had done something wrong.'

"'What horrid, awful boys!' I said. 'Do you suppose they were going to leave him there all night?'

"'No,' Tom said, he didn't suppose they were; probably they were only going to leave him long enough to get him thoroughly scared; but if he was not much mistaken they were the scared ones this time. Toby, when he went over to the boarding-house, saw two or three fellows skulking around the coal house, and he walked boldly up to them and said: 'If you are looking for Master Andrews, he is in Miss Peabody's library eating nuts and apples;' Toby's a sharp fellow; he said the way they scampered was worth a dollar.

"I suppose that evening's work was about the best thing that ever happened to 'Master Andrews.' Miss Harriet all but adopted him; she had him with her on Sundays, and holidays, and to spend the evening as often as she could get up an excuse for his coming. He told me once, with the great tears in his eyes, that she was the best friend a fellow ever had in the world. 'And to think,' he said, 'that very morning of the day she found me in her coal shed, I had joined in the laugh the boys had over her because she walked so straight and looked like a soldier! I tell you I never laughed at her again.'"

"What became of the boys who treated him so meanly? Were they expelled?"

"No; little Andrews plead for them, and got them forgiven; he said they didn't mean to be ugly, only darkness and rain were nothing but fun to them and they could not understand his dreadful fright. No, they really grew to be better boys under his influence; and one Thanksgiving Day Miss Harriet had them all to dinner, to please Andrews. One of them, the tallest and handsomest, actually cried when he was telling me about how frightened little Andrews was, and how sorry he felt for him afterwards. He slipped out, unknown to the others, to let him out of the coal shed; but it was too late; fortunately, Miss Harriet had found him. Oh! he wasn't a very bad boy, only a thoughtless one; he grew to be a splendid man; and young Andrews and he were friends as long as he lived."

"Are they both dead?"

"Oh, no; Andrews died when he was a young man; he was a good noble man, and died bravely because he wasn't afraid to run into danger to help save a life; but the other one is down in the library reading his paper, and I ought to go this minute and read it for him." Grandma fumbled for her spectacles, and went off smiling.

"There!" said Rollo, "I had a feeling it was Grandpa, all the time. Just think of Grandma calling him 'a horrid, awful boy!'"