She went close up to him, and leaning on her crutches, curled her arms round his neck, and whispered—
“Pray to-night, dear Phil, will you?”
A great sob rose in his throat. With a terribly painful effort, he choked it down, for he was too proud to cry before a girl, and he managed to say, “I’ll try,” to Essie, whom God seemed to have chosen as His little minister to lead Phil back to Him.
Just then a lumbering farm wagon came in sight. In it was just the pleasantest-looking old man that ever was seen, with long snow-white hair and blue eyes, still, clear, and bright.
“Well, little bonny bird,” he said to Essie, “do you know I have promised to catch you up, and carry you off?”
“Do you mean to lock me up in a fairy palace?” asked Essie, laughing.
“I am to take you to a great big man, who will snap you up, put you in his wagon, and hold you fast, so that you cannot escape.”
“Did the big man call me his ‘Little Essie?’”
“This is what he said: ‘Farmer Hardy, I’ve got to turn off about two miles from home, on some business. You’ll be going past my house; won’t you stop and bring my little Essie, on your way home? I will be at the cross-roads and meet you, and get my white lamb, and take her back again.’”
