less. Louder than before
came to his ears the roar of the fire. Occasionally a hot tongue of
flame intruded mockingly into the mouth of his retreat. The confined air
about him grew close, narcotic. He expected to die, and with the
premonition of death an abnormal activity came to the child-brain.
Whatever knowledge he possessed of death was connected with his mother.
It was she who had given him his vague impression of another life. She
herself, as she lay silent and unresponsive, had been the first concrete
example of it. Inevitably thought of her came to him now,--practical,
material thought, crowding from his brain the blind terror that had been
its predecessor. Where was his mother now? He pictured again the furnace
into which he had gazed from the mouth of the kennel. Though perhaps she
would not feel it, she would be burned--burned to a crisp--destroyed
like the fuel he had tossed into the makeshift stove! Instinctively he
felt the sacrilege, and the desire to do something to prevent it.
Something--yes, but what? He was himself helpless; he must seek outside
aid--but where? Suddenly there occurred to the child-mind a suggestion
applicable to his difficulty, an adequate solution, for it involved
everything he had learned to trust in life. He remembered a Being more
powerful than man, more powerful than fire or cold,--a Being whom his
mother had called God. Believing in Him, it was necessary only to ask
for whatever one wished. For himself, even to save his life, he would
not call upon this Being; but for his mamma! In childish faith he folded
his hands and closed his eyes in the darkness.

"God," he prayed, "please put out this fire and save my mamma from
burning!"

The small hands loosened and the lips parted to hear the first
diminution in the growl of the flame. But it roared on.

"God!" The hands were clasped again, the voice vibrant with pleading.
"God, please put out the fire! Please put it out!"

Silence again within, but without only the steady roaring crackle. Could
it be possible the petition had not been heard? The childish hands met
more tightly than before. The small body fairly writhed.

"God! God!" he implored for the third time. "Listen to me, please! Save
my mamma, my mamma!"

For a moment the little figure lay still. Surely there would be an
answer now. His mamma had said there would be, and whatever his mamma
had told him had always come true. The air about him was so close he
could scarce