Pearl," he said, smiling. "The larger the circle of
light, the larger the darkness around it."

Pearl pondered a minute.

"That's just what I've often thought, but I didn't know how to say
it. Well," she went on, "I often wonder what makes the wind blow, and
what makes you fall when you step off things, and how does the hail
come when it's scorchin' hot; and I've often wondered what holds the
clouds up, and I'd like to know what's goin' on, and what people
think about things."

She stopped suddenly, and looked closely into his face. She had to be
sure of a sympathetic listener.

"Go on, Pearl," Mr. Donald said, kindly. "I am interested. Tell me
what else you are wondering about."

"Well," she said, "I'll tell you the biggest wonder I have. I would
not tell it to every one, for if they've never thought of it it is
just as well for them, for there's a danger of thinkin' too far in
it. I am wonderin' often why God let the bad men crucify the dear
Lord, and Him that kind and sweet and gentle. I often think about it
at night, and can't sleep. I think about all the angels, big
strappin' fellows, flyin' around the cross, feelin' so sorry for Him,
and just wantin' so bad to hold Him up in their arms, but knowin'
they dassent interfere without orders, and I often imagine to meself
that the word did come to the angels to jump in and save Him, and I
can just see how tender they would lift Him down from the cross, and
the two poor fellows with Him, and they would float away off into the
blue sky, leaving the bad people down below, the soldiers and the
high priests and all of them, gawkin' up, wid their mouths open,
watchin' them growin' smaller and smaller, until they were gone clean
from sight; and then Pilate would say to them: 'Didn't I tell you to
watch what you were about? Let me tell yez, ye have put your foot in
it good and plenty this time.' But then I think of what really did
happen, and it just breaks my heart to think of it."

Pearl's tears overflowed her eyes, but she wiped them away and went
on steadily. "I wonder if you could tell me why it happened, Mr.
Donald. I know God did it for the best. I am not sayin' a word
against Him, mind ye, for I know what He's like, and how good He is,
and all; but it was awful to let our Lord die that like."

Mr. Donald felt his own heart strangely moved at the little girl's
distress.

"I am not very well up in these things, Pearl," he said; "but if He
hadn't died he could