but had the strange self-possession which comes from associating with one who has travelled far on life’s journey.

“I couldn’t leave her alone in the house,” said her grandmother, “and she wouldn’t leave the kitten for fear it should be lonesome”—with a humorous, tender glance at the child—“but it’s a long tramp in the heat for the little one, and we’ve another mile to go.”

“Will you let her bide here till you come back?” I said. “She’ll be all right by me.”

The old lady hesitated.

“Will ’ee stay by him, dearie?” she said.

The small child nodded, drew from her miniature pocket a piece of sweetstuff, extracted from the basket a small black cat, and settled in for the afternoon. Her grandmother rose, took her basket, and, with a nod and “Thank ’ee kindly, mister,” went off down the road.

I went back to my work a little depressed—why had I not white hair?—for a few minutes had shown me that I was not old enough for the child despite my forty years. She was quite happy with the little black cat, which lay in the small lap blinking its yellow eyes at the sun; and presently an old man came by, lame and bent, with gnarled twisted hands, leaning heavily on his stick.

He greeted me in a high, piping voice, limped across to the child, and sat down. “Your little maid, mister?” he said.

I explained.

“Ah,” he said, “I’ve left a little darlin’ like this at ’ome. It’s ’ard on us old folks when we’re one too many; but the little mouths must be filled, and my son, ’e said ’e didn’t see they could keep me on the arf-crown, with another child on the way; so I’m tramping to N—, to the House; but it’s a ’ard pinch, leavin’ the little ones.”

I looked at him—a typical countryman, with white hair, mild blue eyes, and a rosy, childish, unwrinkled face.

“I’m eighty-four,” he went on, “and terrible bad with the rheumatics and my chest. Maybe it’ll not be long before the Lord remembers me.”

The child crept close and put a sticky little hand confidingly into the tired old palm. The two looked strangely alike, for the world seems much the same to those who leave it behind as to those who have but taken the first step on its circular pathway.

“’Ook at my kitty,” she said, pointing to the small 

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