"Davy took out his pocket-handkerchief, spread it out before him, and stopped grinning. "'Yaas; to be sure I do,' he said at last. "'Ye do?' growled the man, half humorously, half scornfully. "'Yaas,' said Davy, nodding his head again and again. "'Did ye buy 'em?' "'Noa,' answered Davy; and the sweetness of the smile which he now smiled was not confined to his mouth, but broke like light, the light of intelligence, over his whole face. "'Were they gave to ye?' pursued the man, now really curious to hear what he would say. "'Yaas,' said the poor fellow; and he clapped his hands in a kind of suppressed glee. "'Why, who gave 'em to ye?' "Davy looked up in a way I shall never forget, and, pointing up with his finger too, said nothing. "'What do ye mean?' said the man. 'Who gave ye yer whiskers?' "Davy pointed up to the sky again; and then, looking up with an earnest expression, which, before you saw it, you would not have thought possible to his face, said, "'Blessed Father.' "'Who?' shouted the man. "'Blessed Father,' Davy repeated, once more pointing upwards. "'Blessed Father!' returned the man, in a contemptuous tone; 'Blessed Father!--I don't know who _that_ is. Where does he live? I never heerd on _him_.' "Davy looked at him as if he were sorry for him. Then going closer up to him, he said: "'Didn't you though? He lives up there'--again pointing to the sky. 'And he is so kind! He gives me lots o' things.' "'Well!' said the man, 'I wish he'd give me thing's. But you don't look so very rich nayther.' "'Oh! but he gives me lots o' things; and he's up there, and he gives everybody lots o' things as likes to have 'em.' "'Well, what's he gave you?' "'Why, he's gave me some bread this mornin', and a tart last night--he did.' "And the boy nodded his head, as was his custom, to make his assertion still stronger. "'But you was sayin' just now, you hadn't got a kite. Why don't he give you one?' "'_He'll_ give me one fast 'nuff,' said Davy, grinning again, and rubbing his hands. "Miss Cathcart, I assure you I could have kissed the boy. And I hope I felt some gratitude to God for giving the poor lad such trust in Him, which, it seemed to me, was better than trusting in the three-per-cents, colonel; for you can draw upon him to no end o' good things. So Davy thought anyhow; and he had got the very thing for the want of which my life was cold and sad, and discontented. Those words, _Blessed Father_, and that look that turned his vacant face, like Stephen's, into the face of an angel, because he was looking up to the same glory, were in my ears and eyes for days. And they taught me, and comforted me. He was the minister of God's best gifts to me. And to how many more, who can tell? For Davy believed that God did care for his own children.