on 'em, damn 'em!"
answered Jinnie.

Lafe raised his eyes slowly.

"I was wonderin' if I dared give you a lesson, lass," he began in a
low voice.

"I wish you would," replied Virginia, eagerly. "I'd love anything
you'd tell me."

"Well, I was wonderin' if you knew it was wicked to swear?"

Like a shot came a pang through her breast. She had offended her
friend.

"Wicked? Wicked?" she gasped. "You say it's wicked to swear,
cobbler?"

Lafe nodded. "Sure, awful wicked," he affirmed.

Virginia took a long breath.

"I didn't know it," she murmured. "Father said it wasn't polite, but
that's nothing. How is it wicked, cobbler?"

Lafe put two nails into position in the leather sole and drove them
deep; then he laid down the hammer again.

"You remember my tellin' you this morning of the man with angels,
white angels, hoverin' about the earth helpin' folks?"

"Yes," answered Virginia.

"Well, He said it was wicked."

An awe-stricken glance fell upon the speaker.

"Did He tell you so, Lafe?"

"Yes," said Lafe. "It ain't a question of politeness at all, but just
bein' downright wicked. See, kid?"

"Yes, cobbler, I do now," Jinnie answered, hanging her head. "Nobody
but Matty ever told me nothing before. I guess she didn't know much
about angels, though."

"Well," continued Lafe, going back to his story, "God give his little
boy Jesus to a mighty good man an' a fine woman--as fine as Peg--to
bring up. An' Joseph trundled the little feller about just as I did my
little Lafe, an' bye-an'-bye when the boy grew, He worked as his
Father in Heaven wanted him to. The good God helped Joseph an' Mary to
bring the Christ down face to face with us--Jews an' Gentiles alike."

"With you and me?" breathed Virginia, solemnly.

"With you an' me, child," repeated the cobbler in subdued tones.

Virginia walked to the window and drummed on the pane. Through mere
force of habit the cobbler bent his head and caught the tacks between
his teeth. He did it mechanically; he was thinking of the future. In
the plan of events which Lafe had worked out for himself and Peg,
there was but one helper, and each day some new demonstration came to
make his faith the brighter. In the midst of his meditation, Jinnie
returned to her seat.

"Cobbler, will you do something I ask you?"

"Sure," assented Lafe.

"Get busy trusting Peg'll get the two dollars to-night."

"I have long ago, child, an' she's goin' to get it, too. That's one
b