"Well," said the other sister, who was a little more hopeful, "you won't
get them any quicker by fretting, so you might as well be quiet." Then
the subject dropped and the day passed as usual.

As the shades of evening were gathering, a brother who lived at some
distance, and who knew nothing of their previous conversation, called to
inquire after their prosperity. After the customary salutations he said,
"You have been sick here a long time, and I thought I would come round
and see if I could not do something for you; thought perhaps by this
time the girls needed something." Then turning to the younger sister, he
said, "_How is it, aren't your shoes worn out?"_

She dropped her eyes, blushed deeply, and, perhaps, a little
conscience-smitten, answered not a word. Nothing was said of the
previous conversation, though it was not forgotten by those who heard
it. The brother soon saw for himself enough to satisfy him, and said no
more, but went away. The next day _two pairs of shoes_ were sent around
to her, and with them came to her heart a lesson which she never forgot.

She lived many years after that, but was never heard to murmur in that
way again, and often said that the two pairs of shoes taught her to
_wait, hope and trust_, and thereby learn implicit confidence in Him who
sendeth all blessings. The last time she alluded to the occurrence, she
said, "_I was speechless then, but, by the grace of God, I will not be
in the world to come_."


THE LAME HEALED.