The Angel Children | Page 3

to stay at home."
"But," pursued Genevieve, "I'll come down to your house, and bring some books, and help you tend the baby. O! don't you love the baby?"
"No! he is too cross," was the crusty reply.
"But, he is a baby; he don't know any better."
"That don't make any difference."
"Yes it does, too; your big brother knew better than to kill your pretty pussy, and that is why it was so naughty in him to do it." This was a new kind of argument for Hepsa; but she thought over it a moment, and then told her little teacher she thought she might be right. "I almost wish you would come to teach me to read. I don't know but I might like it; and then it would be rather good to see you. Now, are you sure there is such a person as God?" said Hepsa, glancing at Genevieve from the corners of her eyes.
"Of course I am, Hepsa; who do you think made the sky and the ground, the trees and grass?"
"I don't know," replied Hepsa.
"And the sun and the moon, and the stars," continued Genevieve, with a mysterious tone. Hepsa shook her head by way of saying no.
"And all the fathers and mothers and children?" at which question Hepsa looked so perplexed.
"I asked mother once," she said, musingly, "who made all these things; but she told me I'd better be minding the cradle. I guess she didn't know; but I've always had spells of wondering about it."
Genevieve looked very gravely at Hepsa as she said,
"It was God who made all these things."
"Well, I don't know but it was," replied Hepsa.
"But I know it was; the Bible says so, and father and mother say so, too; beside, I feel it in my heart, when I see the sun and the flowers, and everything looks so pretty."
"Do you?" cried Hepsa, seeming to feel a new interest in her companion. "I wonder if you ever hear pretty voices in the trees when the wind blows, and in the night when it is warm, and you are looking up to the moon, and see the light that comes down through the holes in the sky, does something great seem to come close to you?"
"Why, yes, Hepsa, ever so many times, and I think it is God. And when Katie leaves me to go to sleep, and it is all dark, I know God comes then, for I feel him all around, and the room seems so big--bigger than it ever did before, bigger than the garden, bigger than the fields, bigger than the sky. I can't tell you how big."
"O, well--and--what did you say your name was?" asked Hepsa.
"Genevieve;" and she pronounced it very slowly.
"It is rather odd," said Hepsa, trying to repeat the name; "but I want to know if you ever laid down on the ground when it rained, and listened."
"No!"
"Well, it is real beautiful; in the grass, it sounds like bells--it sounds better where the grass is tall."
"I wish I could hear it," said Genevieve, sadly; "but my mother wouldn't like to have me lie on the ground when it rained."
"How would she know it," asked Hepsa, "if you didn't tell her?"
"Why, Hepsa, I shouldn't want to if she wouldn't like it--I shouldn't want to at all."
"I suppose, then, she won't let you come to hear me read?"
"O, yes she will, I know! I'll ask her, and she will kiss me, and say yes."
So Hepsa told her where she lived, and Genevieve went into the house, and Hepsa went home, feeling very happy about the flowers, and thinking of the things her new friend had told her.
"She says I must love Tom, and that is so queer; but if the God who gave me Tom, is the One who comes so near to me sometimes, I'll try; and, perhaps, if I hadn't called Tom such names this morning, he wouldn't have killed my poor cat." So Genevieve's words had sunk into Hepsa's heart already.
Genevieve went to her mother, and told her what a strange little girl she had found that morning, and that she had promised to go and teach her to read, that she might know about God.
[Illustration: GENEVIEVE READING THE BIBLE TO HEPSA.]
On the next day she took some of her books, and, with some of her prettiest playthings for a present to Hepsa, she went in search of the house down the lane, on the other side of the village.
She found a gentler pupil than on the day before; and Hepsa's hair was laid smoothly upon her forehead, her face clean, and though there were some tatters in her dress, Genevieve did not much mind them.
The baby was in his cradle, fast asleep, and Genevieve went and knelt down by the side of it, and looked