"Well, Molly," said the judge, going up to the

old apple-woman's stand, "don't you get tired 

sitting here these cold, dismal days?" "It's only 

a little while," said she. "And the hot, dusty 

days?" said he. "It's only a little while, sir," 

answered Molly. "And the rainy, drizzly days?"

 said the judge. "It's only a little while," 

answered Molly.

"And your sick, rheumatic days, Molly?" said the

judge. "It's only a little while, sir," said she.

"And what then, Molly?" asked the judge.

"I shall enter into that rest which remains for

the people of God," answered the old apple-

woman devoutly; "and the troublesomeness of

 the way there don't, pester or fret me. It's only

 a little while, sir."

"All is well that ends well, I dare say," said the

judge; "but what makes you so sure, Molly?"

"How can I help being sure, sir," said she, "since

Christ is the way, and I am in him? He is mine,

and I am his. Now I only feel along the way. I

shall see him as he is in a little while, sir."

"Ah, Molly, you've got more than the law ever

taught me," said the judge. "Yes, sir, because I

went to the gospel." "Well, Molly, I must look

into these things," said the judge, taking an

 apple and walking off. "There's only a little 

while, sir," said she. 

Child's Paper.