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."