"The rock," said Chuckles with conviction. "I'll build a castle on the rocks next time."
There was a pause. It was one thing to tell the story, another to apply it; and Sidney began to feel that her subject was above a child's comprehension.
"That's a story from the Bible, Chuckles. Jesus told that one, and He said that people who tried to live without Him were like the man who wouldn't build on the rock. He is the Rock of Ages, you know. And God wants us all to be builders; only we must take care we build properly."
Chuckles leant over the side of the boat, and began to splash the water with his hands.
"I don't know nothing about God," he remarked carelessly, "and I can't live with Jesus. He is up above the stars, millions of miles away. Aunt Dannie told me so."
"He is here now, Chuckles—close to us. He sees you, and He hears what you say."
Chuckles looked fearfully round; then he shook his curly head.
"I would rather He didn't."
"That is because you don't know Him, Chuckles. I want you to get to know Jesus Christ. I want Him to be your best friend."
"The las' friend I made was our washwoman's husban'. He mends umbrellas and china, and he sharpened my knife for nuffin. He lived in London once, but the fog got on his chest. I've got an awful lot of friends."