d see him
turn into a butterfly."

"Oh, no, Eleanor, you can't force the situation. He has to live out his
little grasshopper life the best that he can, before he's good enough to
be a butterfly. If you kill him now you might send him backward. He
might turn into what he was before--a poor little blind worm perhaps."

"Oh, my Lawd!" said Eleanor.

The Bishop was still a moment, and then repeated, quietly:

Slay not the meanest creature, lest thou slay
Some humble soul upon its upward way.

"Oughtn't to talk to yourself," Eleanor shook her head disapprovingly.
"'Tisn't so very polite. Is that true about the grasshopper, Bishop, or
is it a whopper?"

The Bishop thought for a moment. "I don't know, Eleanor," he answered,
gently.

"You don't know so very much, do you?" inquired Eleanor, not as
despising but as wondering, sympathizing with ignorance.

"Very little," the Bishop agreed. "And I've tried to learn, all my
life"--his gaze wandered off reflectively.

"Too bad," said Eleanor. "Maybe you'll learn some time."

"Maybe," said the Bishop and smiled, and suddenly she sprang to her
feet, and shook her finger at him.

"I'm afraid," she said, "I'm very much afraid you're a naughty boy."

The Bishop looked up at the small, motherly face, bewildered. "Wh--why?"
he stammered.

"Do you know what you're bein'? You're bein' late to church!"

The Bishop sprang up too, at that, and looked at his watch quickly. "Not
late yet, but I'll walk along. Where are you going, waif? Aren't you in
charge of anybody?"

"Huh?" inquired Eleanor, her head cocked sideways.

"Whom did you come out with?"

"Madge and Dick, but they're off there," nodding toward the wood behind
them. "Madge is cryin'. She wouldn't let me pound Dick for makin' her,
so I went away."

"Who is Madge?"

Eleanor, drifting beside him through the sunshine like a rose-leaf on
the wind, stopped short. "Why, Bishop, don't you know even Madge? Funny
Bishop! Madge is my sister--she's grown up. Dick made her cry, but I
think he wasn't much naughty, 'cause she would _not_ let me pound him.
She put her arms right around him."

"Oh!" said the Bishop, and there was silence for a moment. "You mustn't
tell me any more about Madge and Dick, I think, Eleanor."

"All right, my lamb!" Eleanor assented, cheerfully, and conversation
flagged.

"How old are you, Eleanor Gray?"

"Six, praise de Lawd!"

The Bishop considered deeply for a moment, then his fac