A good many children would have felt a little fear. The cart seemed heavy, and the donkey very obstinate; the boat looked small and shabby. But Patty never questioned: she had such faith in her mother, that she could always follow where mamma led. The water was a little rough: there was a tossing easterly wind, and it blew directly across the current. There were two men and two barefooted boys to row the boat. The boys had their ragged pants rolled up above their knees; and as soon as the little cart was safely on board, they went into the clay bank with their bare legs, and pushed off the flat.

It made Patty shiver. The bank had been frozen the night before, and, although the boys trod it down as if it were soft, it was hardly thawed. Patty could see the sparkling needles of ice, running through and through.

"Doesn't it make you sick to do so?" she said, as the boys threw themselves in, half under the wheels, dripping with water.

The only answer was a laugh, merry enough, that showed some white teeth.

"You can't do it all winter?" said Patty, anxiously.

ee

"No, we don't run all winter," said the boy; nobody wants to go over."

By this time they were out in the stream. Looking up the river, Patty saw the pretty arches of the Aqueduct Bridge; looking down, she saw the Long Bridge, over which so many thousand troops marched to the front during the rebellion.

"I should like to have gone over it, mamma," said Patty, pointing over the blue water.

"So should I," said Mrs. Gray, "only it would have taken us too long. We must have gone back to the foot of Capitol Hill, and we shall find Lundy waiting for Frisky on the other bank."

It was very fortunate for Patty—indeed, it is fortunate for us all-that God has made us capable of enjoying so many things.

Patty's tender heart had ached for poor aunt Lucy, and was even now worried over the bare legs and clay-colored lips of her little boatmen ; but her eyes caught the distant turrets of the Capitol the fretty, foamy line of the river breaking away from the Little Falls. She saw the deep cut out of which Rock Creek poured

its dark water, and the high banks of the Virginia shore. Over all gleamed the winter sun, out of an arch clear as sapphire, and pointed with light.

Through all this beauty, the little child felt her heavenly Father's love. Perplexed by the sight of poverty that she could not relieve, and of sickness that she knew not how to heal, she could carry both, in her heart and thought, to that dear Friend, and trust Him to give riches and health, at the right moment, to every one of His children. Her little eyes were so charmed and busy, that she started when she felt the boat "thud" heavily against the opposite bank.

"Is this Arlington?" she cried, coming suddenly to herself.

"No," said Mrs. Gray; "this is Mason's Island. Beyond the farther bank there is a bridge; and when we have crossed that, we shall be on the Arlington road.”

They waited for the boy to lead the donkey ashore; and then he stood with his ragged hat, waiting to be paid.

Mrs. Gray took a small piece of money out of her purse, and held it up to him.

"That is enough, I suppose?" she said, questioning.

The boy shook his head, and drew back his hat.

"Did you never take anybody across for that?" she said.

"Yes, missus; we tuk a woman and a picaninny over dis morning. But they were poor; it was all they had."

"And what if this were all I had?" said Mrs. Gray, smiling.

The boy scratched his head, and then shook it again.

"Don' look likely," said he, smiling back.

Mrs. Gray laughed, and took out fifty cents. "Well," said she, "there is double your due. When you come across another picaninny, don't take away its mother's last cent."

"No, missus."

"Mamma," said Patty, who had been watching the boy, and was delighted to find him so honest and so shrewd, "mamma, why didn't you give him a dollar?"

"Because I want to give a little to a great many people," said her mother; "and a very

little, unexpectedly received, is a great encouragement."

"Was there a ferry here when you were a little girl?" said Patty, as her mother took the

reins.

"No, my dear; everybody in this neighborhood kept a boat then, just as we should keep a carriage. You remember about Washington's barge?"

"Yes, mamma, and I could not help thinking that perhaps aunt Lucy's own father was one of the very black men who rowed him up and down. How very black she was, mamma!"

Mrs. Gray did not answer. She was guiding the donkey up the steep bank beyond the bridge; then she turned his head toward Long Bridge.

"Are you going back?" said Patty.

"No," said mamma; "but we are a little early. Lundy will not be at the house, and I have time to show you the famous spring."

They kept along the bank between the great canal and the river. Although it was so late in the year, the grass was green, and very soon they came into a grove of fine old oaks