"'There is a separation more bitter than death,' said Melchior.

"At last he pulled the check-string, and called to Godfather Time in
an humble entreating voice.

"'It is not your fault,' he began; 'it is not your fault, Godfather;
but this drive has been altogether wrong. Let us turn back and begin
again. Let us all get in afresh and begin again.'

"'But what a squeeze with all the brats!' said Godfather Time,
ironically.

"'We should be so happy,' murmured Melchior, humbly; 'and it is very
cold and chilly; we should keep each other warm.'

"'You have the tiger-skin rug and the opera-glass, you know,' said
Time.

"'Ah, do not speak of me!' cried Melchior, earnestly. 'I am thinking
of them. There is plenty of room; the little one can sit on my knee;
and we shall be so happy. The truth is, Godfather, that I have been
wrong. I have gone the wrong way to work. A little more love, and
kindness, and forbearance, might have kept my sisters with us, might
have led the little one to better tastes and pleasures, and have
taught the other by experience the truth of the faith and hope and
love which he now reviles. Oh, I have sinned! I have sinned! Let us
turn back, Godfather Time, and begin again. And oh! drive very slowly,
for partings come only too soon.'

"'I am sorry,' said the old man in the same bitter tone as before, 'to