of three, the merriest, most sturdy little fellow I thought I had ever
seen. His face was as round and rosy as an apple, his eyes were dark
blue, and had the happiest and most roguish expression that it would be
possible for eyes to have. When the child laughed (and whenever was he
not laughing?), every part of his face laughed together. His eyes began
it, his lips followed suit, even his nose was pressed into the service.
If a sunbeam could be caught and dressed up like a little boy, I think
it would look something like that child.

'Now,' I said, 'that's right; I like to see children's faces when I talk
to them; tell me your names to begin with.'

'I'm Marjorie, sir,' said the little girl, 'and he's Jack.'

'Jack!' I said; 'that's _my_ name, and a nice name too, isn't it,
little Jack? Come and look at my picture, little Jack, and see if you
think big Jack knows how to paint.'

By degrees they grew more at their ease, and chatted freely with me.
Marjorie told me that her father had sent the paper. Father was going to
preach on Sunday; he preached every Sunday, and numbers of people came,
and Jack was in the choir.

What a dear little chorister, to be sure, a chubby little cherub if ever
there was one!

'Shall you come, big Jack?' he said, patting my hand with his strong,
sturdy little fist.

'I don't know,' I said; 'if it's a fine day, perhaps I shall want to get