fingers. Such an anxious expression passed over his face that even
a casual passer-by could not help relieving it by a question--any
question:

"Is this the miracle chapel, little boy?"

"Yes, ma'am; yes." Then his expression changed to one of eagerness,
yet hardly less anxious.

"Here. Take this--"

He did not hold out his hand, the coin had to seek it. At its touch he
refused to take it.

"I ain't begging."

"What are you looking at so through the fence?" He was all sadness
now.

"Just looking."

"Is there anything to see inside?"

He did not answer. The interrogation was repeated.

"I can't see nothing. I'm blind," putting his eyes again to the hole,
first one, then the other.

"Come, won't you tell me how this came to be a miracle chapel?"