tion."

"Did--did he come on the cyars with you? Whar war he at? Hu come he in
thar?" David did not reply for an instant, and the awed child drew a
step nearer. "Whar war he at?" he insisted. "Hu come he in thar?"

"He was hanging to a bush as I came along, and I put him in my box and
brought him home and cut him up and put a little bit of him in here."

Then there was silence, and David forgot the small boy until he heard a
deep-drawn sigh behind him. Looking up for the first time, he saw him
standing aloof, a look of terror in his wide eyes as if he fain would
run away, but could not from sheer fright. Poor little mite! David in
his playful speech had not dreamed of being taken in earnest. He drew
the child to his side, where he cuddled gladly, nestling his twisted
little body close, partly for protection, and partly in love.

"You reckon he's plumb dade?" David could feel the child's heart beating
in a heavy labored way against his arm as he held him, and, pushing his
papers one side, he lifted him to his knee.

"Do I reckon who's dead?" he asked absently, with his ear pressed to the
child's back.

"The devil what you done brought home in yuer box."

"Dead? Oh, yes. He's dead--good and dead. Sit still a moment--so--now
take a long breath. A long one--deep--that's right. Now another--so."

"What fer?"

"I want to hear your heart beat."

"Kin you hear hit?"

"Yes--don't talk, a minute,--that'll do."

"What you want to hear my heart beat fer? I kin feel hit. Kin you feel
yourn? Be they more'n one devil?"

"Heaps of them."

"When I go back, you reckon I'll find 'em hanging on the bushes? Do
they hang by ther tails, like 'possums does?"

Comfortable and happy where he was, the little fellow dreaded the
distance he must traverse to reach his home under the peculiar phenomena
of devils hanging to the bushes along his route.

"Oh, no, no. Here, I'll show you what I mean." Then he explained
carefully to the child what he really meant, showing him some of the
strange and beautiful ways of nature, and at last allowing him to look
into the microscope to see the little cells and rays. As he patiently
and kindly taught, he was pleased with the child's eager, receptive mind
and naive admiration. Towards evening Hoyle was sent home, quite at rest
concerning devils and all their kin, and radiantly happy with a box of
many colored pencils and a blank drawing-book, which David had brought
him from Farington.

"I k