The serious face of the little girl caused her mother to wonder if the child really saw the holy spirits.
Mrs. Allen consoled her little daughter, telling her Bo would be more thoughtful and better behaved when he should be a few years older.
"Come now," said she, "we will go to see poor little Tommie Hoden. I am sure from the appearance of the boy, the family must be in very great distress."
It was a beautiful day. The hyacinths were in bloom, and there were daffodils, tulips, and forget-me-nots, almost ready to open; the cherry trees were white with blossoms, and the apple trees covered with buds. The glad beautiful spring had fully come with its lovely treasures and everything seemed delighting in the sweet air and sunshine.
Miss Beldon, a neighbor, was digging her flower-beds, and asked where they were going.
"I want to visit that poor little fellow, Tommy Hoden, who comes here so often," said Mrs. Allen.
"You're not going to Hoden's," cried Miss Beldon; "why the father is an awful man!"
"So much the more need of helping him, and that poor neglected boy of his," answered Mrs. Allen. "Can you tell me exactly where they live?"
"Yes, in a horrid old hut, near Duff Mills. You can't miss it, for it is the meanest of all those tumble-down shanties. I do wish you wouldn't go, it won't do any good."
"Our Lord will take care of that," said Mrs. Allen. "I am only going to do the part of the work He assigns me, and take food to the hungry."