Nettie's Daily Bread.

A little girl in a wretched attic, whose sick mother had no bread, knelt

down by the bedside, and said slowly: "Give us this day our daily

bread." Then she went into the street and began to wonder where God kept

his bread. She turned around the corner and saw a large, well-filled

baker's shop.



"This," thought Nettie, "is the place." So she entered confidently, and

said to the big baker, "I've come for it.



"Come for what?"



"My daily bread," she said, pointing to the tempting loaves. "I'll take

two, if you please--one for mother and one for me."



"All right," said the baker, putting them into a bag, and giving them to

his little customer, who started at once into the street.



"Stop, you little rogue!" he said, roughly; "where is your money?"



"I haven't any," she said simply.



"Haven't any!" he repeated, angrily; "you little thief, what brought you

here, then?"



The hard words frightened the little girl, who, bursting into tears,

said: "Mother is sick, and I am so hungry. In my prayers I said, 'Give

us this day our daily bread,' and then I thought _God meant me to fetch

it, and so I came_."



The rough, but kind-hearted baker was softened by the child's simple

tale, and instead of chiding her or visiting threats of punishment, as

is usually the case, he said: "_You poor, dear girl; here, take this to

your mother_," and he filled a large basketful and gave it to her.