Gavine stared at the child with her grave eyes. Jockie giggled. "How was he, Chuckles?" she asked. "Tell us." "He helped me to build," said Chuckles with great gravity. "That's what God does to me every day, doesn't He, Miss Sid?" Monica looked across at Sidney with a smile. Chuckles was never better pleased than when he had got an audience. He lifted up his voice and continued: "I'm just about middle built now." "What do you mean?" asked Jockie. "Well, fust, you see, God builded me a baby; that's when I couldn't do nuffin myself, and God builded me all by Hisself. Then He went on building me taller, a little bit at a time, until I was builded into a boy; now I've got to build a little myself, and build all kinds of bwicks on me; and God just hold His hand over mine so I don't make no mistakes. He's building me up gooder every day." "Oh," said Monica, "I hope I see the goodness coming, Chuckles; but you don't grow in that direction very fast." Chuckles cocked his head on one side like some saucy sparrow. "The bwicks don't stick always," he asserted; "sometimes they tummles off; 'specially the bwick this week—it's to do what you're told quick, and it won't stick." "Did you teach him all this, Miss Urquhart?" asked Gavine, a light leaping into her eyes. "Yes," said Sidney; "we're doing a course of building every Sunday, and we find out a lot about it, don't we, Chuckles? We're all builders—of a sort." "Of a sort," repeated Monica slowly. "When I'm builded into a man, I shall begin to build other people," asserted Chuckles. And the important tone with which he said it made the girls laugh. They had a merry tea. Jockie was overflowing with fun and spirits, but when the time came for them to go, she said to Sidney: "Will you let Gavine walk a part of the way with you. I have promised to be home in time for the choir practice; and she's dying to talk to you." Sidney was only too delighted. She had wanted to see more of Gavine, but seemed to have had no opportunities with her. When they were left alone together Gavine said: "What a quaint child that boy is. He seems such a mixture. Jockie says he is a regular pickle, and yet he talks like a little saint." "He is far from a saint," said Sidney; "but real religion is as natural to children as their daily food. They only want teaching, and Chuckles has a bright intelligence and a vivid imagination. I love having him on Sunday." "I want to be a builder," said Gavine earnestly. "I really think I'm going to get my wish. But I wish I could think with Chuckles that God would put His hand over mine to prevent mistakes." "He will if you ask Him," said Sidney earnestly. "Only, if you want to be a successful builder, be sure about your foundation." "How do you mean?"