ef and bread, and anything else that's loose. Look sharp, now."

The Seraph ran off obediently, and it was not long till he re-appeared with
food and the dregs of the ale.

It was a treat to see Granfa make way with these. He smacked his lips and
wiped his beard on his sleeve with the relish born of prolonged abstinence.
As he ate, the apple-blossoms fell about him, settling on the rim of his
ragged hat, and even finding shelter among the white waves of his beard. We
sat cross-legged on the grass before him eagerly awaiting the song.

At last, in a voice rich with emotion, he sang to a strange lilting tune:

"I be in a terr'ble fix,
Wife have I and childer six.

"I'd got married just for fun,
When in popped Baby Number one--

"I'd got an easy job to do,
When in strolled Baby Number Two--

"I was fishin' in the sea,
When up swum Baby Number Three--

"My boat had scarcely touched the shore,
When in clumb Baby Number Four!

"I was the scaredest man alive,
When wife found Baby Number Five.

"The cradle was all broke to sticks
When in blew Baby Number Six--

"And now I'm praying hard that Heaven
Will keep a grip on Number Seven."

"And did Heaven keep a gwip on it?" inquired The Seraph as soon as the last
notes died away.

"Not a bit of it," responded our friend. "They come along so fast that I
was all in a mizmaze trying to keep track on 'em. And good childer they
was, and would never have turned me out as their sons have had the stinkin'
impidence to do. But now, souls, tell me all about yourselves, for I be a
terr'ble perusin' man and I like to ponder on the doings of my
fellow-creatures. Did you mention the name of a parson, over by yon
honeysuckle hedge?"

We thought the old man was excellent; and we found it an easy thing to make
a confidant of him. So, while he puffed at a stubby clay pipe, we drew
closer and told him all about the Bishop and about father and how lonely we
were for him. Blue smoke from his clay pipe spun about us, seeming to bind
us lightly in a fine web of friendship. Through it his blue eyes shone
longingly, his pink face shone with sympathy, and his white beard with its
clinging apple-blossom petals, rose and fell on his ragged breast.

"It's a great pity," said Angel, "that father isn't here now, because I'm
certain he'd be jolly glad to adopt you for a grandfather for us. He's a
most reasonable man."

Our new friend shook his head doubtfully.