and there they rested happily, as we do now, before they went on to their
journey's end," answered Beth, adding, as she slipped out of her father's arms
and went to the instrument, "It's singing time now, and I want to be in my old
place. I'll try to sing the song of the shepherd boy which the Pilgrims heard. I
made the music for Father, because he likes the verses."
So, sitting at the dear little piano, Beth softly touched the keys, and in the
sweet voice they had never thought to hear again, sang to her own
accompaniment the quaint hymn, which was a singularly fitting song for her.
He that is down need fear no fall,
He that is low no pride.
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide.
I am content with what I have,
Little be it, or much.
And, Lord! Contentment still I crave,
Because Thou savest such.
Fulness to them a burden is,
That go on pilgrimage.
Here little, and hereafter bliss,
Is best from age to age!
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AUNT MARCH SETTLES THE QUESTION
Like bees swarming after their queen, mother and daughters hovered about
Mr. March the next day, neglecting everything to look at, wait upon, and listen
to the new invalid, who was in a fair way to be killed by kindness. As he sat
propped up in a big chair by Beth's sofa, with the other three close by, and
Hannah popping in her head now and then 'to peek at the dear man', nothing