"0 yes! sir; I know a verse which says that," said in reply Fanny. "Allflesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower ofgrass--but good evening, and thank you, sir," and away Fanny ran.

And now, before going on with my story, I must go back to tell whomand what Fanny, the flower-girl, was.

Mrs. Newton, whom she called her grandmother, was now a poor agedwoman, confined to her bed by a long and trying illness, that hadnearly deprived her of the use of her limbs. But she had not beenalways thus afflicted. Some years before, Mrs. Newton lived in a neatcottage near the road-side, two or three miles from one of the greatsea-port towns of England. Her husband had good employment, and theywere both comfortable and ecstatic.