"He was hanging to a bush as I came along, and I put him in my box and brought him home and cut him up and put a little bit of him in here." Then there was silence, and David forgot the small boy until he heard a deep-drawn sigh behind him. Looking up for the first time, he saw him standing aloof, a look of terror in his wide eyes as if he fain would run away, but could not from sheer fright. Poor little mite! David in his playful speech had not dreamed of being taken in earnest. He drew the child to his side, where he cuddled gladly, nestling his twisted little body close, partly for protection, and partly in love. "You reckon he's plumb dade?" David could feel the child's heart beating in a heavy labored way against his arm as he held him, and, pushing his papers one side, he lifted him to his knee. "Do I reckon who's dead?" he asked absently, with his ear pressed to the child's back. "The devil what you done brought home in yuer box." "Dead? Oh, yes. He's dead--good and dead. Sit still a moment--so--now take a long breath. A long one--deep--that's right. Now another--so." "What fer?" "I want to hear your heart beat." "Kin you hear hit?" "Yes--don't talk, a minute,--that'll do." "What you want to hear my heart beat fer? I kin feel hit. Kin you feel yourn? Be they more'n one devil?" "Heaps of them." "When I go back, you reckon I'll find 'em hanging on the bushes? Do they hang by ther tails, like 'possums does?" Comfortable and happy where he was, the little fellow dreaded the distance he must traverse to reach his home under the peculiar phenomena of devils hanging to the bushes along his route. "Oh, no, no. Here, I'll show you what I mean." Then he explained carefully to the child what he really meant, showing him some of the strange and beautiful ways of nature, and at last allowing him to look into the microscope to see the little cells and rays. As he patiently and kindly taught, he was pleased with the child's eager, receptive mind and naïve admiration. Towards evening Hoyle was sent home, quite at rest concerning devils and all their kin, and radiantly happy with a box of many colored pencils and a blank drawing-book, which David had brought him from Farington. "I kin larn to make things like you b'en makin' with these, an' Cass, she'll he'p me," he cried. "What is Cass doing to-day?" David ventured. "She be'n up here most all mornin', an' I he'ped get the light ud fer fire, an' then she sont me home to he'p maw whilst she stayed to fix up." "But now, I mean, when you came up here?" "Weavin' in the loom shed. Maw, she has a lot o' little biddies. The ol' hen hatched 'em, she did." "What have you done to your thumb?" asked David, seeing it tied about with a rag. "I plunked hit with the hammer when I war a-makin' houses fer the biddies. I nailed 'em, I did." "You made the chicken coops? Well, you are a clever little chap. Let me see your hand." "Yas, maw said I war that, too."