be
inevitable as soon as the voice of conscience became blunted, that he
looked about for help. He did not at first think of God; but there came
into his thoughts the memory of a travel-worn Galilean peasant, hungry,
sleepy, weary, tempted, tried, like other men, but having a strange,
divine Victory in him by which everything evil was vanquished at his
coming. He remembered how He had reached out a Hand to every helpless
one, how He was the Helper of every weak one. And out of the depths of
his soul he cried to the Helper, and found comfort. Not victory, but,
what is better, strength. And so, without a thought of the niceties of
theological distinctions, without dreaming that it was the beginning of
a religious experience, he found what he needed, help. And the Helper
gave His beloved sleep.

CHAPTER IX.

HAS GOD FORGOTTEN SHOCKY?

"Pap wants to know ef you would spend to-morry and Sunday at our house?"
said one of Squire Hawkins's girls, on the very next evening, which was
Friday. The old Squire was thoughtful enough to remember that Ralph
would not find it very pleasant "boarding out" all the time he was
entitled to spend at Pete Jones's. For in view of the fact that Mr. Pete
Jones sent seven children to the school, the "master" in Flat Creek
district was bound to spend two weeks in that comfortable place,
sleeping in a preoccupied bed, in the "furdest corner," with
insufficient cover, under an insufficient roof, and eating floating
islands of salt pork fished out of oceans of hot lard. Ralph was not
slow to accept the relief offered by the hospitable justice of the
peace, whose principal business seemed to be the adjustment of the
pieces of which he was composed. And as Shocky traveled the same road,
Ralph took advantage of the opportunity to talk with him. The master
could not dismiss Hannah wholly from his mind. He would at least read
the mystery of her life, if Shocky could be prevailed on to furnish the
clue.

"Poor old tree!" said Shocky, pointing to a crooked and gnarled elm
standing by itself in the middle of a field. For when the elm, naturally
the most graceful of trees, once gets a "bad set," it can grow to be the
most deformed. This solitary tree had not a single straight limb.

"Why do you say 'poor old tree'?" asked Ralph.

"'Cause it's lonesome. All its old friends is dead and chopped down, and
there's their stumps a-standin' jes like grave-stones. It _must_ be
lonesome. Some folks says