“I didn’t run away for that, sir; I ran away because he was tired of me. I couldn’t stay to make him uncomfortable! He had been very kind to me; I fancy it was mistress made him change. I’ve been thinking a good deal about it, and that’s how it looks to me. I’m very sorry not to have him or the creatures any more.” “What creatures?” “The bull, and the horses, and the cows, and the pigs--all the creatures about the farm. They were my friends. I shall see them all again somewhere!” He gave a great sigh. “What do you mean by that?” asked the baker. “I hardly know what I mean,” answered Clare. “When I’m loving anybody, I always feel I shall see that person again some time, I don’t know when--somewhere, I don’t know where.” “That don’t apply to the lower animals; it’s nothing but a foolish imagination,” said the baker. “But if I love them!” suggested Clare. “Love a bull, or a horse, or a pig! You can’t!” asserted the baker. “But I _do_,” rejoined Clare. “I love my father and mother much more than when they were alive!” “What has that to do with it?” returned the baker. “That I know I love my father and mother, and I know I love that fierce bull that would always do what I told him, and that dear old horse that was almost past work, and was always ready to do his best.--I’m afraid they’ve killed him by now!” he added, with another sigh. “But beasts ain’t got souls, and you can’t love them. And if you could, that’s no reason why you should see them again.” “I _do_ love them, and perhaps they have souls!” rejoined Clare. “You mustn’t believe that! It’s quite shocking. It’s nowhere in the Bible.” “Is everything that is not in the Bible shocking, sir?” “Well, I won’t say that; but you’re not to believe it.” “I suppose you don’t like animals, sir! Are you afraid of their going to the same place as you when they die?” “I wouldn’t have a boy about me that held such an unscriptural notion! The Bible says--the spirit of a man that goeth upward, and the spirit of a beast that goeth downward!” “Is that in the Bible, sir?” “It is,” answered the baker with satisfaction, thinking he had proved his point. “I’m so glad!” returned Clare. “I didn’t know there was anything about it in the Bible! Then when I die I shall only have to go down somewhere, and look for them till I find them!” The baker was silenced for a moment. “It’s flat atheism!” he cried. “Get out of my shop! What is the world coming to!” Clare turned and went out. But though a bilious, the baker was not an unreasonable or unjust man except when what he had been used to believe all his life was contradicted. Clare had not yet shut the door when he repented. He was a good man, though not quite in the secret of the universe. He vaulted over the counter, and opened the door with such a ringing of its appended bell as made heavy-hearted Clare turn before he heard his voice. The long spare white figure appeared on the threshold, framed in the doorway. “Hi!” it shouted.