The Lost Thimble.
"One day I lost my silver thimble, a gift from my mother when I was a
young girl. I prized it _very highly_. I looked everywhere, long and
faithfully. The tears would come, at the best, it had been so long a
constant companion. I gave up the search after a while, thinking some
one had taken it, or a child had lost it--any way, it was gone. Feeling
sad over it, I sat down to console myself, and the thought came--pray
about it; so I did, and while I knelt there something whispered, 'Look
on the bed,' so plainly that I arose and went into my sister's
sleeping-room where I had turned the spread aside, and there nestled, in
a fold of the quilt, _my thimble_. I involuntarily said, 'Thank God!'
out of the depths of my glad heart. I had lain down a moment on this bed
with baby Ernest, early in the morning, and the thimble had fallen out
of my pocket."
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