Prudy soon tired of sewing, and her mother said, laughing, “If grandma Read has to wait for somebody’s little fingers before she gets a bedquilt, poor grandma will sleep very cold indeed.”

The calico pieces went into the rag-bag, and that was the last of Prudy’s patchwork.

One day the children wanted to go and play in the “new house,” which was not quite done.  Mrs. Parlin was almost afraid little Prudy might get hurt, for there were a great many loose boards and tools lying about, and the carpenters, who were at work on the house, had all gone away to see some soldiers.  But at last she said they might go if Susy would be very careful of her little sister.

I dare say Susy meant to watch Prudy with great care, but after a while she got to thinking of something else.  The little one wanted to play “catch,” but Susy saw a great deal more sport in building block houses.

“Now I know ever so much more than you do,” said Susy.  “I used to wash dishes and scour knives when I was four years old, and that was the time I learned you to walk, Prudy; so you ought to play with me, and be goody.”

“Then I will; but them blocks is too big, Susy.  If I had a axe I’d chop ’em:  I’ll go get a axe.”  Little Prudy trotted off, and Susy never looked up from her play, and did not notice that she was gone a long while.

By and by Mrs. Parlin thought she would go and see what the children were doing; so she put on her bonnet and went over to the “new house.”  Susy was still busy with her blocks, but she looked up at the sound of her mother’s footsteps.

“Where is Prudy?” said Mrs. Parlin, glancing around.

“I’m ’most up to heaven,” cried a little voice overhead.

They looked, and what did they see?  Prudy herself standing on the highest beam of the house!  She had climbed three ladders to get there.  Her mother had heard her say the day before that “she didn’t want to shut up her eyes and die, and be all deaded up ­she meant to have her hands and face clean, and go up to heaven on a ladder.”

“O,” thought the poor mother, “she is surely on the way to heaven, for she can never get down alive.  My darling, my darling!”

Poor Susy’s first thought was to call out to Prudy, but her mother gave her one warning glance, and that was enough:  Susy neither spoke nor stirred.

Mrs. Parlin stood looking up at her ­stood as white and still as if she had been frozen!  Her trembling lips moved a little, but it was in prayer; she knew that only God could save the precious one.

While she was begging Him to tell her what to do, a sudden thought flashed across her mind.  She dared not speak, lest the sound of her voice should startle the child; but she had a bunch of keys in her pocket, and she jingled the keys, holding them up as high as possible, that Prudy might see what they were.

When the little one heard the jingling, she looked down and smiled.  “You goin’ to let me have some cake and ’serves in the china closet, me and Susy?”

Mrs. Parlin smiled ­such a smile!  It was a great deal sadder than tears, though Prudy did not know that ­she only knew that it meant “yes.”

“O, then I’m coming right down, ’cause I like cake and ’serves.  I won’t go up to heaven till bime-by!”

Then she walked along the beam, and turned about to come down the ladders.  Mrs. Parlin held her breath, and shut her eyes.  She dared not look up, for she knew that if Prudy should take one false step, she must fall and be dashed in pieces!

But Prudy was not wise enough to fear any thing.  O, no.  She was only thinking very eagerly about crimson jellies and fruit cake.  She crept down the ladders without a thought of danger ­no more afraid than a fly that creeps down the window-pane.

The air was so still that the sound of every step was plainly heard, as her little feet went pat, ­pat, ­on the ladder rounds.  God was taking care of her, ­yes, at length the last round was reached ­she had got down ­she was safe!

“Thank God!” cried Mrs. Parlin, as she held little Prudy close to her heart; while Susy jumped for joy, exclaiming, ­

“We’ve got her! we’ve got her!  O, ain’t you so happy, mamma?”

“O, mamma, what you crying for?” said little Prudy, clinging about her neck.  “Ain’t I your little comfort? ­there, now, you know what you speaked about!  You said you’d get some cake and verserves for me and Susy.”