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"There was a great hole, -- Matt wanted to see God."

"Poor Matt," said the lady, compassionately; "does he often look for God in the sky?"

The boy did not reply; but, as if to comfort himself for his disappointment, said in a reassuring tone, "Matt shall see God tomorrow, -- shall see God some day."

He then began to move away, and as he appeared to be rather lame, his new friend kindly led him; but when she found that he did not seem to be making for any particular point, but wandered first to one side, then to the other, she said, "Where does Matt want to go?"

The boy looked about him, but could not tell; perhaps his long upward gazing had dazzled his eyes; perhaps the sweet round of some church-bells which was wafted toward them, now louder, now fainter, attracted his attention, for he stopped to listen, and pointing to a gray church-spire, told his new friend that the bells said, "Come to church, good people."

This was evidently what he had been told concerning them. There were some cottages on the sand-bank a quarter of a mile from them, and, not doubting that he lived there, the lady led him toward them. Though dressed like one of the laboring classes, the boy was perfectly neat, clean, and obviously well cared for; his light hair was bright, and his hands, by their shrunk and white appearance, showed that he was quite, incapable of any kind of labor. He yielded himself passively to her guidance, only muttering now and then, in an abstracted tone, "Matt shall find God tomorrow."

Very shortly, a little girl came out of one of the cottages and ran toward them. She was an active, cheerful little creature; and when she had made the lady a courtesy, she took the boy by the hand, saying to him in a slow, measured tone, "Come home, Matt, dinner's ready."

"How can you think of leaving this poor boy to wander on the shore by himself?" said the lady. "Did you know that he had left his home?"

"He always goes out, ma'am, o' fine days," said the child; "and we fetch him home to his meals."

"But does he never get into mischief?" asked the lady.

The child smiled, as if amused at the simplicity of the question, and said, "He's a natural, ma'am; he doesn't know how to get into mischief like us that have sense."

"How grateful you ought to be to God for giving you your senses!" said the lady; "and what a bad thing it seems that children should ever use their sense to help them to do mischief!"

The little girl looked up shrewdly; and, perhaps, suspecting some application to herself, began to evade it, as clever children will do, by applying it to another.

"There's Rob, he's the smartest boy in the school, ma'am. Got the prize, he did, last year. His mother says he's the most mischievous boy in the parish. Mr. Green gave him 'Pilgrim's Progress' for his prize; but I reckon he doesn't know Rob's ways. Rob climbs up the cliffs after the pigeons' eggs, he does; mind his mother says she knows he'll break his neck some day. He climbed a good way up one day, with his little brother on his back, an his mother says she thought she should ha' died o' fright."

"I am sorry to hear that he is such a bad boy," said the lady. "I hope his little brother was not hurt."

"No," said the child; "but Rob was beat. His father beat him, he did, when he got down, all the same as if he had hurt his little brother." Then, as the boy at her side appeared to flag and come on with reluctance, his little guide resumed the measured tone in which she had at first spoken, and said to him, "Matt must make haste, -- the dumpling's ready; make haste, Matt."

The kindness and care with which she led him induced the lady to say again, "Is it safe to leave this poor boy all alone on the beach, when he does not seem to know the way home?"

"He can't go out of sight, ma'am, said the child, shaking back her hair from her healthy brown face; "and our folks give a look at him now and then to see what he's about."

"Oh, then, you care for him," said the lady; "you are all fond of him."

"Yes, sure," replied the girl; "he never does us any harm; and he must come out; he would fret unless he might come out and look for" --

The child hesitated, but being encouraged to proceed, continued in a lower tone, --

"He expects that some day he shall see God, ma'am. He is always asking where God is; and when our folks tell him that God is up in heaven, he comes out and looks up."

"Poor fellow!" said the lady; "does he know that we are talking about him now?"

"No," said the child, decidedly; "his grandfather says he can only think about one thing at a time; and now he is thinking about his dinner."

By this time they had reached the nearest cottage, and a decent-looking woman came out and requested the lady to walk in and rest. She then led the boy in, set him on a low stool, and having cut up his dinner on a plate, gave it to the little girl, who began to feed him with it.

A chair had been set for the stranger; and as she gladly sat down to rest, she took the opportunity of looking about her.