moved from the
man's eyes. The Bible became to him the living Word of God.

"The Lord Jesus used to walk by the Sea of Gennesaret," said the boy
seriously. "Now He walks through these mountains of yours. Sometimes
He passed through our mountains to seek us, and now He seeks you."

* * * * *

Again it was Sunday. Filina got the boys ready to go to church, but he
himself remained in front of his hut. Fido who was not permitted to
run with the comrades, lay at his feet. Suddenly he pricked up his
ears, jumped up, and like an arrow flew into the nearby thicket. Bacha
paid no attention. He sat with his head bowed down. He did not even
hear someone speak to the dog, nor hear any greeting; he did not
arouse himself till he heard close to him the pleasant young voice
which he loved so much.

"Good morning, Uncle Filina. Why are you so sad and so lonely? Where
is everybody?"

"Welcome, Palko," gladly replied the man. He held out his brown hand
to the boy. "If I had known you would come, I would not have sent the
boys to the church. Everywhere is the house of God. And I suppose you
are bringing the Bible, about which you spoke yesterday?"

"Yes, I do. My father went away for a few days. He asks you kindly if
you will let me stay with your boys that I may not have to stay alone
in the hut. Will you take me?"

The beautiful eyes of the boy gazed longingly on the face of the man.

"Why, surely. We will be only too glad if you stay with us," answered
Bacha. "But why did your father go home?"

"He went with some wood. He could not take it all at once. The balance
we shall put on a float, and so carry it to our destination. Thus I
could bring the Bible to show it to you."

"Is that the one from Pastor Malina?"

"Yes, Uncle, and I esteem it very much. There are many notes in Latin
which I do not understand, and also some in Slovak. When I look at the
writing I see the pastor in front of me. I would like to show you what
he wrote the last Sunday when he became so seriously ill. Do you have
time for it, Uncle?"

"Oh, yes, my son; it is Sunday. Just read on."

"You will understand it better than I because you are older. There
is something very good: 'I have missed very much; my whole life is
wasted,' began the boy, and his voice sounded so solemn, almost as
if he were reading the Word of God. 'Even though I would, I cannot
improve anything. It is too late; it is too late! Souls passed into
et