with Alick's face, who came to him promptly and sat on his knee Presently her brown hand stroked his old cheek. "Gran'-dad," she said.
"Choot, darlin'," he whispered, reverently.
The child looked at him wonderingly. "I says you's gran'-dad," she repeated, "not ole Alick."
He laid his white head on hers.
"Gran'-dad, ole Tommy Tolbit's dead."
Turning his glistening face to Liz in momentary forgetfulness, he said solemnly, "The knowledge of this chile!"
"Ole Talbert" had been dead for two years, and the knowledgeable child had been surprising him so, at least twice a week.
"We have erred and strayed from Thy ways like lost sheep," murmured the minister.
The smaller children wandered in and out of the bedrooms, carrying their spoils with them. But Jinny and Six had drawn the now disabled rocking-chair up to the window, and were busy poking faces at two of Liz's children, who were standing on the couch inside. One of these made a vicious smack with a hair-brush at Jinny's tongue, flattened against the glass.
