s say," said Matilda. "It says that
God saw everything that he had made, and it was very good."

Norton looked with a funny look at his little companion, amused and yet
with a kind of admiration mixed with his amusement.

"I wonder how you and David would get along," he remarked. "He is as
touchy on that subject as you are."

"What subject?" said Matilda. "The Bible?"

"The Old Testament. The Jewish Scriptures. Not the New! Don't ever
bring up the _New_ Testament to him, Pink, unless you want stormy
weather."

"Is he bad-tempered?" Matilda asked curiously.

"He's Jewish-tempered," said Norton. "He has his own way of looking at
things, and he don't like yours. I mean, anybody's but his own. What a
quantity it must take to feed this enormous creature!"

"You may take your affidavit of that!" said the keeper, who was an
Irishman. "Faith, I think he's as bad as fifty men."

"What do you give him?"

"Well, he belongs to the vegetable kingdom intirely, ye see, sir."

"He's a curious water-lily, isn't he?" said Norton low to Matilda. But
that was more than either of them could stand, and they turned away and
left the place to laugh. It was time then, they found, to go home.

A car was not immediately in sight when they came out into the street,
and Norton and Matilda walked a few blocks rather than stand still. It
had grown to be a very disagreeable day. The weather was excessively
cold, and a very strong wind had risen; which now went careering along
the streets, catching up all the dust of them in turn, and before
letting it drop again whirling it furiously against everybody in its
way. Matilda struggled along, but the dust came in thick clouds and
filled her eyes and mouth and nose and lodged in all her garments. It
seemed to go through everything she had on, and with the dirt came the
cold. Shadywalk never saw anything like this! As they were crossing one
of the streets in their way, Matilda stopped short just before setting
her foot on the curb-stone. A little girl with a broom in her hand
stood before her and held out her other hand for a penny. The child was
ragged, and her rags were of the colour of the dust which filled
everything that day; hair and face and dress were all of one hue.

"Please, a penny," she said, barring Matilda's way.

"Norton, have you got a penny?" said Matilda bewildered.

"Nonsense!" said Norton, "we can't be bothered to stop for all the
street-sweepers we meet. Come on, Pink." H