like a caress, seemed assuring him of
the truth. The birds declared it in their songs.

Gabriel went down on his knees in the dewy grass and, dropping his bundle,
clasped to his breast the book.

"Dear God," he said, "I am all alone and I have no one to love but Topaz.
He is a little dog and I must give him up because he doesn't belong to me.
I know now that I shall love you and you will help me give Topaz back,
because my stepmother told me that you know everything, and she always told
the truth."

Then Gabriel arose and, taking the package of food, went on with a light
heart until he came to Mother Lemon's cottage. Even that poor shanty looked
pleasant in the morning beams. The tall sunflowers near the door flaunted
their colors in the light, and their cheerful faces seemed laughing at
Mother Lemon as she came to the entrance and called anxiously to the
approaching boy:--

"Come quick, lad, hasten. My poor Tommy is distracted, for your dog whines
and threatens to dig his way out of his prison, and I will not answer for
the consequences."

Indeed, the tortoise-shell cat was seated on the old woman's shoulder. The
fur stood stiffly on his arched back, his tail was the size of two, and his
eyes glowed.

Gabriel just glanced at the cat as it opened its mouth and hissed, then he
gazed at Mother Lemon.

"Did you know there was a God?" he asked earnestly.

"To be sure, lad," replied the old woman, surprised.

"I've just learned about Him in this wonderful book; the Book of Life is
its name. Saw you ever one like it?"

The boy placed the rusty little volume in her hands.

"Ay, lad, many times."

"Does every one know it?" he asked incredulously.

"Most people do."

"Then why is not every one happy?" asked Gabriel. "There is a God and He is
love. Do people believe it?"

"Ah," returned the old woman dryly, "that is a different thing."

Gabriel scarcely heard her. He opened his precious book.

"There," he cried triumphantly, "see the living words:--

"'_Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate
us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord_.'"

"H'm," said the old woman. "The print is too fine for my old eyes."

"Yes, perhaps 'tis for that that the letters flame like threads of fire.
You see them?"

"Ahem!" returned Mother Lemon, for she saw no flaming letters, and she
looked curiously at the boy's radiant face. Moreover, Tommy suddenly leaped
from her shoulder