nger, but I
shall not see her again, because she has forgotten me long ago--and so
I have nobody to look after me, no mother, no father, although I was
adjudged to him. I used to be very sad about it, but since Palko came
to us, and I believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, and received Him in my
heart, I am no more just a forsaken orphan, because He loves me, and
He it with me." The boy stopped because the lady became very pale, and
the arm with which she had caressed him, fell down and a deep sigh
escaped her lips.

"Aunty!" cried the scared boy, and not in vain. Aunty Moravec ran into
the room. She washed the deathly-pale face of the lady with some kind
of fine-smelling water. She placed a cushion under her head and put
her feet on the sofa. After a while, the lady began to breathe better
again. Aunty took the boy by the hand and led him to the kitchen. At
his anxious questioning she told him only that the lady was still
very weak and must rest. Ondrejko repeated to her what they had been
speaking about together. At hearing this, Aunty sighed and caressed
him, and said, "It is all in vain. It had to come and the sooner the
better." She did not hinder Ondrejko from going home, but did not
allow him to carry the crock.

"Send Palko, in the afternoon. He promised to take the lady to you.
From tomorrow on, she is to come to your sheepfold to drink the whey.
The doctor ordered that."

"But is she not sick?" the boy said, showing some anxiety.

"She is not sick any more, only weak, and this weakness she must
overcome by walking," responded Aunty.

In this world there is no sweetness without bitterness. If something
strange had not happened, that boy would have returned home very proud
and happy. Thus Bacha Filina found him not far away, all in tears,
and when he took him into his strong arms like a little lamb, the boy
threw both arms around his neck and told him everything.

"Bacha, I have surely said something bad, though I really don't know
what, and she became very sad about it," cried Ondrejko.

"Do not cry," the man comforted him. "You said only what the Lord God
put in your mouth. Anyway, when the lady comes in the afternoon, all
will be well again."

With these words, the Bacha carried the tired boy to his wooden hut,
laid him on the bed, and sat beside him. He stroked his arm and
forehead, and before long he had put his little charge to sleep. Then
he looked at him once more, sadly, and left. About half-an-ho