OH, DEAR," said little Bessie, as she sat on the steps watching the girls set out for the woods, to gather autumn leaves. "I wish I was big enough to go too. Mother said I'd get tired, and Edith said I'd be in the way, and Lily said I was so little I might get poisoned." 

Just then Will went across the yard, basket in hand, and Bessie called out,— 

"O Will! Let me go too after nuts." 

But Will only laughed, and called back, "No, indeed; you're too little. A big chestnut might knock you down. I'll bring you some." 

Poor Bessie looked very much as if she was going to cry, but she bravely smoothed her little face, and went into the house to find something to do. 

"Can't I make pies too?" said she, standing at Bridget's side, and watching her roll out pastry. 

"Oh, it's too little you are for that," said Bridget, just like all the rest. 

Perhaps mother in the dining-room heard the little questioner, and felt sorry for her; anyway 

she called,— 

"Bessie, don't you want to put away the cups for mother " 

Bessie ran in, and soon was most happy, carefully putting away the pretty china teacups. 

"And now," said mother, we'll go up stairs and see what we can do there." 

Now that we helped Bessie. 

"I am going to put away the clean clothes, and you can pick out all the socks and stockings which need mending," 

Soon Bessie was busy looking for thin plebes and holes: When that was done, there was tea and the morning pallet to carry to grandma's room, and a Skein of worsted to hold for Aunt Mary, and all the empty spools to take out of her work-box. 

Someway dinnertime came very early that day, and little Bessie's face was as bright as the fair autumn day when the girls came back. And Will brought her the promised chestnuts, too. 

"Mother," said Bessie that night, as she was put to bed, "didn't Jesus mean real little children when he said, 'Suffer little children to come unto me'?" 

"Yes, dear; why " said mother. 

"'Cause," says Bessie, "I'm so glad Jesus loves children like me, too little to do much or go anywhere without their mothers." 

"And you are not too little to love Jesus, too, Bessie." 

"Yes," said Bessie, "I can love him and you, and I can mind you and help you too, mother, can't I?" 

"Yes, indeed, darling," said mother, kissing her, and Bessie fell asleep thinking it not so hard to be little. Little reader, are you not big enough to love Jesus and mind mother?

—Lucy Randolph Fleming