Wise Mattie glanced up in her face. She had recognized the sadness in her tone. "Read this first, please, Miss Burton," she said. "I think it will do you good. Things _will_ go wrong. I'm sure it's very sad. And I don't know what's to be done with the world. It's always going wrong. It's just like father's watch. He's always saying there's something out of order in its inside, and he's always a-taking of it to the doctor, as he calls the watchmaker to amuse me. Only I'm not very easy to amuse," reflected Mattie, with a sigh. "But," she resumed, "I wish I knew the doctor to set the world right. The clock o' St. Jacob's goes all right, but I'm sure Mr. Potter ain't the doctor to set the world right, any more than Mr. Deny is for Mr. Kitely's watch." The associations in Mattie's mind were not always very clear either to herself or other people; they were generally just, notwithstanding. "But you have never been to Mr. Potter's church to know, Mattie." "Oh! haven't I, just? Times and times. Mr. Spelt has been a-taking of me. I do believe mother thinks I am going to die, and wants to get me ready. I wonder what it all means?" "Nonsense, Mattie!" said Lucy, already tamed a little aside from her own sorrow by the words of the child. "You must put on your hat and come out with me." "My bonnet, miss. Hats are only fit for very little girls. And I won't go till you read this poetry to me--if it be poetry." Lucy took the book, and read. The verses were as follows: As Christ went into Jericho town, 'Twas darkness all, from toe to crown, About blind Bartimeus. He said, Our eyes are more than dim, And so, of course, we don't see Him, But David's Son can see us. Cry out, cry out, blind brother, cry; Let not salvation dear go by; Have mercy, Son of David. Though they were blind, they both could hear-- They heard, and cried, and he drew near; And so the blind were saved. O Jesus Christ! I'm deaf and blind, Nothing comes through into my mind, I only am not dumb. Although I see thee not, nor hear, I cry because thou may'st be near; O Son of David, come. A finger comes into my ear; A voice comes through the deafness drear; Poor eyes, no more be dim. A hand is laid upon mine eyes; I hear, I feel, I see, I rise-- 'Tis He, I follow Him.