"You know, he can do everything. He can make you well; and I hope he
will."

"He won't make me well--" said Molly.

"He will make you happy, if you will pray to him."

"Happy!" said Molly; as if it were a yet more impossible thing.

"O yes. Jesus makes everybody happy that loves him. He makes them good
too, Molly; he forgives all their sins that they have done; and in
heaven he will give them white robes to wear, and they will not do wrong
things nor have any pain any more."

One of Molly's grunts came now; she did not understand this or could not
believe. Daisy looked on, pitiful and very much perplexed.

"Molly, you have a great Friend in heaven," said the child; "don't you
know it? Jesus loves you."

"H--n?"--said Molly again.

"Don't you know what he did, for you and me and everybody?"

Molly's head gave sign of ignorance. So Daisy sat down and told her.
She told her the story at length; she painted the love of the few
disciples, the enmity of the world, the things that infinite tenderness
had done and borne for those who hated goodness and would not obey God.
Molly listened, and Daisy talked; bow, she did not know nor Molly