"Now you puzzle me," answered Mattie. "But let me think. You know it's not the book I mean; it's the poem. Now I have it. If I know that poem by heart, and I live forever, then the poem will live forever. There!" "Then the book's the body, and the poem the soul," said Mr. Fuller. "One of the souls; for some things have many souls. I have two, at least." Mr. Fuller felt instinctively, with the big forehead and the tiny body of the child before him, that they were getting on rather dangerous ground. But he must answer. "Two souls! That must be something like what King David felt, when he asked God to join his heart into one. But do you like this poem?" he hastened to add. "May I read it to you?" "Oh, yes; please do. I am never tired of hearing it. It will sound quite new if you read it." So Mr. Fuller read slowly--"As Jesus went into Jericho town." And from the way Mattie listened, he knew what he must bring her next--not a camellia, but a poem. Still, how sad it was that a little child should not love flowers! "When were you in the country last, Miss Kitely?" "I never was in the country that I know of. My name is Mattie." "Wouldn't you like to go, Mattie?" "No I shouldn't--not at all." "Why?" "Well, because--because it's not in my way, you see." "But surely you have some reason for not liking the country." "Well, now, I will tell you. The country, by all I can hear, is full of things that die, and I don't like that. And I think people can't be nice that like the country." Mr. Fuller resolved in his heart that he would make Mattie like the country before he had done with her. But he would say no more now, because he was not sure whether Mattie as yet regarded him with a friendly eye; and he must be a friend before he could speak about religion. He rose, therefore, and held out his hand. Mattie looked at him with dismay. "But I wanted you to tell me about the man that sat at Somebody's feet in his Sunday clothes." Happily for his further influence with her, Mr. Fuller guessed at once whom she meant, and taking a New Testament from his pocket, read to her about the demoniac, who sat at the feet of Jesus, clothed, and in his right mind. He had not known her long before he discovered that all these stories of possession had an especial attraction for Mattie--she evidently associated them with her own visions of Syne and his men. "Well, I was wrong. It wasn't his Sunday clothes," she said. "Or, perhaps, it was, and he had torn the rest all to pieces." "Yes; I think that's very likely," responded Mr. Fuller. "I know--it was Syne that told him, and he did it. But he wouldn't do it any more, would he, after he saw Somebody?" "I don't think he would," answered Mr. Fuller, understanding her just enough to know the right answer to make. "But I will come and see you again to-morrow," he added, "and try whether I can't bring something with me that you will like."