hardly bigger than a rose-leaf, will get large and thick, wag out of season, do mischief, brag and cant for gain or vanity, and cut as cruelly, for all its clumsiness, as if it were a sharp-edged blade. Big Job will perhaps be naughty" As Felix, speaking with the loud emphatic distinctness habitual to him, brought out this terribly familiar word. Job's sense of mystification became too painful: he hung his lip, and began to cry.
"See there," said Mrs Holt, "you're frightening the innicent child with such talk—and it's enough to frighten them that think themselves the safest."
"Look here, Job, my man," said Felix, setting the boy down and turning him towards Esther; "go to Miss Lyon, ask her to smile at you, and that will dry up your tears like the sunshine."
Job put his two brown fists on Esther's lap, and she stooped to kiss him. Then holding his face between her hands, she said, "Tell Mr Holt we don't mean to be naughty, Job. He should believe in us more. But now I must really go home."
Esther rose and held out her hand to Mrs Holt, who kept it while she said, a little to Esther's confusion,
"I'm very glad it's took your fancy to come here sometimes, Miss Lyon. I know you're thought to
