By-and-by she saw another child, crouching almost naked by the wayside.  “O little girl,” said the child, “won’t you give me your dress?  I have nothing to keep me warm.”  So the little girl took off her dress and gave it to the other child.  And now she had nothing left but her little shirt.  It grew dark, and the wind was cold, and the little girl crept into the woods, to sleep for the night.  But in the woods a child stood, weeping and naked.  “I am cold,” she said, “give me your little shirt!” And the little girl thought, “It is dark, and the woods will shelter me; I will give her my little shirt”; so she did, and now she had nothing left in all the world.

She stood looking up at the sky, to say her night-time prayer.  As she looked up, the whole skyful of stars fell in a shower round her feet.  There they were, on the ground, shining bright, and round.  The little girl saw that they were silver dollars.  And in the midst of them was the finest little shirt, all woven out of silk!  The little girl put on the little silk shirt, and gathered the star dollars; and she was rich, all the days of her life.

THE LION AND THE GNAT[1]

[Footnote 1:  This story has been told by the Rev. Albert E. Sims to children in many parts of England.  On one occasion it was told to an audience of over three thousand children in the Great Assembly Hall, Mile End, London.]

Far away in Central Africa, that vast land where dense forests and wild beasts abound, the shades of night were once more descending, warning all creatures that it was time to seek repose.

All day long the sun had been like a great burning eye, but now, after painting the western sky with crimson and scarlet and gold, he had disappeared into his fleecy bed; the various creatures of the forest had sought their holes and resting-places; the last sound had rumbled its rumble, the last bee had mumbled his mumble, and the last bear had grumbled his grumble; even the grasshoppers that had been chirruping, chirruping, through all the long hours without a pause, at length had ceased their shrill music, tucked up their long legs, and given themselves to slumber.

There on a nodding grass-blade, a tiny Gnat had made a swinging couch, and he too had folded his wings, closed his tiny eyes, and was fast asleep.  Darker, darker, darker became the night until the darkness could almost be felt, and over all was a solemn stillness as though some powerful finger had been raised, and some potent voice had whispered, “HU—­SH!”

Just when all was perfectly still, there came suddenly from the far away depths of the forest, like the roll of thunder, a mighty ROAR—­R—­R—­R!

In a moment all the beasts and birds were wide awake, and the poor little Gnat was nearly frightened out of his little senses, and his little heart went pit-a-pat.  He rubbed his little eyes with his feelers, and then peered all around trying to penetrate the deep gloom as he whispered in terror—­"What—­was—­that?"