I am glad of this, for though I should be very proud of a graceful statue made by her, I shall be infinitely prouder of a lovable daughter with a talent for making life beautiful to herself and others." "What are you thinking of, Beth ?" asked Jo, when Amy had thanked her father and told about her ring.
"I read in _Pilgrim's Progress_ today how, after many troubles, Christian and Hopeful came to a pleasant green meadow where lilies bloomed all year round, and there they rested happily, as we do now, before they went on to their journey's end," answered Beth, adding, as she slipped out of her father's arms and went to the instrument, "It's singing time now, and I want to be in my old place.

I'll try to sing the song of the shepherd boy which the Pilgrims heard.

I made the music for Father, because he likes the verses." So, sitting at the dear little piano, Beth softly touched the keys, and in the sweet voice they had never thought to hear again, sang to her own accompaniment the quaint hymn, which was a singularly fitting song for her.
He that is down need fear no fall, He that is low no pride.
He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide.
I am content with what I have, Little be it, or much.
And, Lord! Contentment still I crave, Because Thou savest such.
Fulness to them a burden is, That go on pilgrimage.
Here little, and hereafter bliss, Is best from age to age!.