The mother mourned without hope, and was soon laid beside her daughter.
The home passed into the hands of those who felt that none must live for
themselves alone; that sorrows must be borne without murmur; and joys
appreciated so well that the angel of sorrow may not have to bear some
treasure away to uplift the heart and give the vision a higher range.

Sorrow met Joy on the road that night. There was no moon, even
the stars were dim; but for the shining face of her sister, she would
have passed her. They joined hands, and walked together till morning
broke. They came in sight of a low cottage just as the day dawned.

"Oh, dear!" said Sorrow, as they approached the familiar spot, "how
often have I been there to carry woe! Do you go now, Joy, and give
them gladness!"

"If it is the master's hour I will most gladly," said Joy, looking
tenderly on the weary face of her sister, who sat by the roadside to rest
awhile while she lifted her heart to heaven, asking that she might no
more carry woe to that humble home; and her prayer was answered.

"I feel to go there," said Joy, as Sorrow wiped her tears away. "Wait
here till I return;" and she ran merrily on.

She entered the humble home with gladness in her beaming eyes, and,
as she bore no resemblance to her sister, they welcomed her with much
greeting; nor did they know but for Sorrow, Joy would not have been
among them. She talked with them a long time, and listened patiently
to the story of their woes.