Dwell Deep | Page 5

front of me away into the
blue distance, where the soft fleecy clouds seemed to stoop and kiss the
outlines of purple hills as they swept gently by, I could not help
thanking God with all my heart that He had brought me into my present
surroundings.
Suddenly I was startled by hearing close to me a child's sobs, and after
some minutes' search I came upon a tiny boy crouched amongst the
heather, grasping a bunch of faded harebells in his chubby fist, and
crying as if his heart would break.
As I bent over him, he looked up into my face and sobbed out
pitifully,--
'Cally me home, lady; I wants my mother.'
'You poor little mite!' I said. 'What is your name? and where do you
live?'

But as I lifted him up he uttered a sharp cry. 'My foots is hurted; I
tumbled down, and I've losted my boot.'
I saw that this was indeed the case; his little foot was cut and bleeding,
perhaps from coming in contact with some sharp stone, and I was for a
moment at a loss what to do. He seemed about three or four years old,
but a heavily built child, and my heart sank at the prospect of carrying
him. Yet this was the only alternative, and as he seemed to have very
little idea of where he lived, I decided to bring him back with me to our
village, there being no other houses in sight.
He was quite willing to be carried, and wound his fat little arms so
tightly round my neck that I thought he would throttle me. But my
progress was painfully slow; the sun blazed down with fierceness, and
there was no shade on the moor; even the fresh breeze which I had so
enjoyed in coming seemed to have disappeared, and every now and
then I had to stop and rest. The child himself soon dropped asleep in
my arms, and I became so tired myself that I was strongly inclined to
leave him lying on the heather, and send some one to fetch him when I
got home. At last, to my great relief, as I was crossing a field I saw a
figure approaching, and this proved to be Kenneth.
'Halloo!' he said, when he caught sight of me and my burden, 'what on
earth have you got here? You are certainly the most extraordinary
young person that we have had in these parts for a long time! Where
have you picked up this small fry? Are you taking a pilgrimage and
doing penance for your sins with him? If you only could see your face!
It makes me burn to look at you!'
'Don't tease,' I said wearily, as I tried in vain to disengage the little
fellow's arms from round my neck. 'I found him crying amongst the
heather, and he has hurt his foot and cannot walk. Do take him from me,
will you?'
This was not such an easy matter. The child woke up cross, screamed
when Kenneth took him, and with his little fist struck him full in the
face with all his childish strength, crying out,--

'I won't be callied by you; I wants the lady.'
Kenneth tossed him across his shoulder with calm indifference to his
cries.
'I shall have a reckoning with you by-and-by, young man, for this
assault. He is the infant pickle of our village, Miss Thorn--commonly
called Roddy Walters; his mother keeps the small general shop, and
Roddy keeps her pretty lively with his pranks. His last mania has been
running away whenever he gets a chance, and if you intend to carry
him home from wherever you find him, you will have enough to do, I
can tell you.'
I made no reply, for I felt quite exhausted, and was greatly relieved to
find that Kenneth knew where to take him.
Presently I was asked,--
'Been having a Bible study on the moor this afternoon?'
'No,' I said quietly, 'I have not.'
'That's a pity, isn't it? You have been out all the afternoon; it's rather
frivolous, isn't it, and a waste of precious time to be sauntering over the
moor doing nothing? A time of meditation, perhaps?'
Yes,' I answered, smiling a little in spite of myself, 'I have been
thinking, as I walked, what lovely country it is round here.'
'We are going to have some grand doings in our neighbourhood soon,'
Kenneth pursued after a few moments' silence; 'the autumn manoeuvres
are coming on, and every one round here keeps open house. We
generally start the ball rolling by a dance. Are you fond of dancing?'
'I used to be fond of it at school,' I said, 'but I--I don't care about it
now.'
I felt