"Of Thine own have we given Thee."
The letters were crooked and uneven. He smiled at Jill, then hung the
little bag up on a nail.
She looked at it proudly. All sorrow for its uselessness had gone.
"It looks lovely up there!" she said. "And I don't mind now having a
new one."
"But don't have a new motto, Jill. Keep that to the end of your life--'Of
Thine own have we given Thee.'"
Jill nodded, and then she ran away home.