better; two I used to come and see. And Dick says he recognizes
two or three little chaps that have died since he came here to
live after the "Rebellion" was over.'

'And how do you explain it?' she asked gently, 'this vision of
dead children so charmingly colored, so color-blind from a South
African point of view?'

I thought before I spoke.

'It is, I believe, a real Vision,' I said. 'The one who painted
it, whoever he was, saw more than we most of us see. Possibly he
was the seventh son of a seventh son. Very apparently he had a
pure heart. The picture was painted on Innocents' Day. I have
verified the date. You see he has called it "Innocents." It was
painted in the children's old playing-place. He saw them in their
new life with the beauty of things South African like a good
dream about them, and the stupidity of things South African
passed from them like a bad one.'

She did not speak for quite a long time. I feared I had hurt her
somehow. But at last she spoke and reassured me.

'Yes, I think you understand how the picture came to be and what
it means. I used to be dreadfully bitter about the Mashonas. I
try not to be now. Couldn't you build on my account a little
school or a little church in that forlorn place? There are some
villages near by, aren't there? Couldn't you call it for me the
Mission of the Innocents? I'd like to ask my host if he'll give
you the picture for the church should you build it for me. In my
house I should be shy about hanging it. I am afraid people might
scoff at it behind my back in their South African way, and I
couldn't bear that easily. I know in my heart of hearts it's true
that Picture as true as it's beautiful. They're all happy now,
likely enough happy together. They were not likely to have been
happy in the same ways had they grown up in South Africa.'

JULIAN

I. THE SOP

Julian Borne was going to leave the Mission that had been his
home for three years. He was a spruce-looking person with quite
pleasantly colored red hair and a turned-up moustache. A Bishop
had commended him, and a Canon Superintendent had delighted to
honor him. His immediate superior, a weather-beaten Missionary,
had, however, partially dissented from the chorus of approval. He
had discriminated. He credited Julian with fine gifts of
organization, but he submitted that he had proved himself lacking
in qualities of heart far too often. His discrimination had been
received coldly by the Ca