the world had been given to her. Oh, it was most delicate and fragile, and certainly not fit to face adversity. But the little girl's brothers, great big boys, had taken the doll away and put it up into a high tree, and then had run away. The poor little girl could not get it down, or get at it in any way, so she sat down and cried. The doll no doubt was crying, too; it stretched out its arms among the branches, and looked most unhappy. Yes, this must be the adversity of the world, about which mamma talked so much. Oh, the poor doll! Evening was coming on, it was getting dark, and it would soon be night. Was it to stay out there all alone in the tree for the whole night? No, the little girl could not endure the thought. 'I will stay with you,' she said, although she was not at all courageous, and she fancied already that she could see the little Brownies in their high-pointed caps peeping through the bushes, and there were long ghostly shadows dancing about in the dark walk. They came nearer and nearer, and stretched out their hands toward the tree where the doll was sitting; and they laughed, and pointed their fingers at her. Oh! how frightened the little girl was. 'But if one has committed no sin,' she thought, 'evil can do one no harm. I wonder if I have sinned!' Then she began to think. 'Oh, yes,' she said, 'I laughed at the poor duck with a red rag round its leg; it looked so funny limping along, so I laughed, and it is a sin to laugh at dumb animals.' Then she looked up at her doll. 'Have you ever laughed at dumb animals?' And the doll seemed to shake its head."
TWENTY-THIRD EVENING
"I looked down in the Tyrol," said the moon. "I let the dark pine trees throw their long shadows on to the rocks. I saw St. Christopher with the child Jesus on his back, as they are painted on the walls of the houses; they are colossal in size, reaching from the ground to the tops of the gables. There is also St. Florian pouring water on the burning house, and the
