The two shook hands, and Mr. Lord seating himself upon a box, instead of the chair that had been set for him, sprang up instantly with a hurried exclamation. A portion of the contents of a paper of tacks had been accidentally spilt there. The ladies were too polite to smile. Mrs. Keith offered the chair again, simply saying, "You will find this a more comfortable seat; please excuse the disorder we are in;" then plunged into talk about the town and the little church he had recently organized there. [Illustration] [Illustration] Chapter Eighth. "Home is the sphere of harmony and peace, The spot where angels find a resting place, When bearing blessings, they descend to earth." --MRS. HALE. CYRIL came running back carrying a covered basket. "He's gone, girls. He wasn't the Lord at all; only a man; and he didn't stay long; I guess 'cause he sat down on the tacks and hurted himself. "Here's our dinner. Mother says we may eat it out here under the trees and it'll be as good as a picnic." "So it will. Let's see what it is," and Zillah took the basket and lifted the lid. "Oh that's nice! buttered biscuits and cold tongue and cheese and ginger bread--lots of it--and a turnover apiece." "Isn't our mother good?" cried Ada gratefully. "Did you tell her about the Indian the berries?" "Yes; and father was there--he just came home--and he says we needn't be a single bit afraid; they don't kill folks now, and they wouldn't dare to hurt us right here in the town; even if they wanted to." "Baby's been fretting a little; 'cause she's hungry, I guess," said Zillah, putting a bit of gingerbread in the little one's hand. "Yes; mother said you should give her some cake; and she'll come directly and take her awhile. Now let's begin to eat, for I'm as hungry as a big black bear." "So am I," piped the small voices of Don and Fan. "But father always asks a blessing first." "Yes," assented Zillah, stopping short in her distribution of the good things; "and mother does it when he's away, but--" and she glanced from one to the other of the childish but grave faces of the little group. "I'll do it," said Cyril, closing his merry blue eyes and folding his chubby hands. "O Lord, we thank thee for the ginger bread and turnovers and--and all the good things, Amen. Now gi me mine, Zil," opening his eyes wide and holding out both hands. "Ladies first, you know," answered the sister, "and we must all spread our handkerchiefs in our laps to keep the greasy crumbs from our clothes." "Oh, yes; I fordot. Help Ada and Fan and yourself, then Don too, and me last 'cause we're the gentlemen." "No, myself last, because that's the way mother does." "And mother and father always do everything right," commented Ada, beginning upon her sandwich. They were rosy, healthy children and their appetites were keen; but they were not selfish or greedy, and the supply of food was more than amply sufficient for all.