There seemed a consoling presence in the room, and her
tired heart found rest.
She wiped away her tears, kissed her children, and smiled upon them. Then
she rose, gathered up her finished work, and attired herself to go forth
and carry it back to the shop.
"Mother," said the children softly, "they are dressing the church, and
the gates are open, and people are going in and out; mayn't we play there
by the church?"
The mother looked out on the ivy-grown walls of the church, with its
flocks of twittering sparrows, and said:
"Yes, my little birds; you may play there if you'll be very good and
quiet."
The mother had only her small, close attic room for her darlings, and to
satisfy all their childish desire for variety and motion, she had only
the refuge of the streets. She was a decent, godly woman, and the bold
manners and evil words of street vagrants were terrible to her; and so,
when the church gates were open for daily morning and evening prayers,
she had often begged the sexton to let her little ones come in and hear
the singing, and wander hand in hand around the old church walls. He was
a kindly old man, and the children, stealing round like two still,
bright-eyed little mice, had gained upon his heart, and he made them
welcome there.
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