he yearned for them in his heart,
feeling a greater anxiety and care for them, than he did for his own
offspring that had never been so much exposed to the temptations and
snares of the world. All she felt about it was that she was a poor
little child, weak and ignorant, and that he was a priest of the great
God, and taught the people from the blessed Book, and that it was a
great honor for her to stand by his side when so many other children
would covet the place. When Nannie Bates' name was called he handed her
her presents--a nice pair of warm mittens, and a new hood, and a book,
besides a turkey for her mother; and he spoke to her of the little dead
Winnie whose body he had committed to the earth, and told her to be
gentle and good that she might some time go to her; and Nannie went home
happier than ever, and filled up the evening pleasantly with the glowing
description of the day's pleasure. Pat sat with his ears distended, and
his arms upon the table, leaning over toward her as she talked, and Mrs.
Bates almost forgot the light that had so lately been extinguished in
her dwelling as the bright face before her shone out in the pleasant
room.

It needed only one more interested one to complete the little circle,
but he was bounding over the waves, and no desire could recall him until
the appointed time. He had now been gone one week, and they could not
hope to see him until the opening of the summer, so they contented
themselves with the enumeration of his goodness to them all, and with a
fervent prayer for his safe return. The moon gleamed upon the bay as
Mrs. Bates and Nannie looked from their windows upon the sparkling
waves, and they almost fancied they could descry afar off the beaming
face of their kind friend; but he lay heart-sick and home-sick in the
berth of the tossing ship, thinking of his cosey room, and of the attic
where so many pleasant moments had been spent, and wondering if Nannie
and Pat would come to no harm while he was away.

CHAPTER XXI.

The winter was well-nigh gone, and it had brought but little trouble to
Mrs. Bates and her small family until now; just as the new quarter
commenced she was short of funds. Pat was confined to the house with
rheumatism, and his wages had stopped, and of course that stopped the
board-money, for what he had saved went for the doctor and the
medicines, and so Nannie had to leave school and take to the basket
again. It was a pity, for she was making