“Nobody, sir,” answered Toni; “only father and mother used to talk about God ordering everything, and told us to remember, and that perhaps some day we should see it for ourselves.”
“Who were your parents?” asked the gentleman, much interested.
“I can hardly tell you; but they were God’s children, for they called Him Father.”
“But what was your father? That was what I meant. What did he do?”
“Well, sir, in the morning he came and woke us and gave us a kiss, and when we were dressed, he read to us out of the big book; after breakfast he went out to teach music, I think, and when he came home he taught us to read and write: that was what he did.”
“Did your father not leave you anything?”
“Leave us anything?” said the boy thoughtfully. “I heard him say once to mother when he was ill, ‘If we die we shall have nothing to leave them, but God will be their friend.’”
“Was it your father’s wish that you should live with your uncle?”
“I never heard him say so; but he was talking to mother one day, and he said grandfather was a good old man, and could teach us to be good, and then he went on, ‘My brother is a wild fellow, but the Lord will be with them and will do for them what is best.’”
“And do you think you will be able to reach your grandfather’s home after all?”