sin," he whispered
to himself, while his lips moved spasmodically with the prayer habitual
to them; four words only, "Forgive me, Lord, forgive."

It had always been a strong desire with Grey to be led around the
premises by his grandfather, who had steadily resisted all advances of
that kind, until with a child's quick intuition, Grey seemed to
understand that his grandfather's hands were something he must not
touch.

That afternoon, however, as Mr. Jerrold was walking on the green sward
by the kitchen door, with his head bent down and his hands clasped
behind him, Grey stole noiselessly up to him, and grasping the right
hand in both his own, held it fast, while he jumped up and down as he
called out to Hannah, who was standing near:

"I'se dot it, I'se dot it--dada's han', an' I sal keep it, too, and tiss
it hard, like dat," and the baby's lips were pressed upon the rough
hand, which lay helpless and subdued in the two small palms holding it
so tight.

It was like the casting out of an evil spirit, and Granpa Jerrold felt
half his burden rolling away beneath that caress. There was a healing
power in the touch of Grey's lips, and the stain, if stain there were
upon the wrinkled hand, was kissed away, and the pain and remorse were
not so great after that.

Grey had conquered and was free to do what he pleased with the old man,
who became his very slave, going wherever Grey liked, whether up the
steep hill-side in the rear of the house or down upon the pond near by,
where the white lilies grew and where there was a little boat in which
the old man and the child spent hours together, during the long summer
afternoons.

In the large woodshed opposite the well, and very near the window of
Granpa Jerrold's bedroom, a rude bench had been placed for the use of
pails and washbasins, but Grey had early appropriated this to himself
and persisted in keeping his playthings there, in spite of all his
grandfather's remonstrances to the contrary. If his toys were removed
twenty times a day to some other locality, twenty times a day he brought
them back, and arranging them upon the bench sat down by them defiantly,
kicking vigorously against the side of the house in token of his
victory, and wholly unconscious that every thud of his little heels sent
a stab to his grandfather's heart.

What if he should kick through the clapboards? What if the floor should
cave in? Such were the questions which tortured the half crazed man, as