the world as this book. It's all about Jesus dying for us. Oh,
Jography! I _cry_ when I read it, and I will read it to you.
Only it is very sad. It's all about the lovely life of Jesus, and
then how He was killed--and He let it be done for you and me. You
will love Jesus when I read from the New Testament about Him, Joe."

"I'd like to hear it, Missie, darling--and I love you now."

"And I love you, poor, poor Joe--and here is a kiss for you, Joe.
And now I must go to sleep."




CHAPTER V.

OUTSIDE CAEN.


The morning after this little conversation between Joe and Cecile
broke so dismally, and was so bitterly cold, that the old woman with
whom the children had spent the night begged of them in her patois
not to leave her. Joe, of course, alone could understand a word she
said, and even Joe could not make much out of what very little
resembled the _Bearnais_ of his native Pyrenees; but the Norman
peasant, being both kind and intelligent, managed to convey to him
that the weather looked ugly; that every symptom of a violent
snowstorm was brewing in the lowering and leaden sky; that people had
been lost and never heard of again in Normandy, in less severe
snowstorms than the one that was likely to fall that night; that in