"Often—very often, Reddie."
"Then the dove was the bird sent out of the ark, you know."
"Yes," said Verty, "and came back with the olive branch. I love to read that."
"What a long, weary flight the poor bird must have had!"
"And how tired it must have been."
"But God sustained it."
"I know," said Verty; "I wish I had been there when it flew back. How the children—if there were any children—must have smoothed its wings, and petted it, and clapped their hands at the sight of the olive branch!"
The simple Verty laughed, as he thought of the glee of the little ark-children—"if there were any."
"There are no olives here," he said, when they had gone a little further; "but just look at that hickory! It's growing as yellow as a buttercup."
"Yes, and see the maples!"