II.
A CHILD OF THE HEATHER.
‘What, Milly! Sitting in the dark?’ asked Mr. Penrose, as he entered the chamber of the suffering child, who was gazing through the open window at the silent stars.
‘I were just lookin' at th' parish candles, as my faither co's 'em; they burn breetsome to-neet, sir.’
‘Looking at them, or looking for them?’ queried the somewhat perplexed divine. ‘Can I bring the candles to you?’
‘Yo' cornd bring 'em ony nearer than they are. They're up yon, sithi,’ and so saying the child pointed to the evening sky.
‘So you call the stars “parish candles,” do you?’ smilingly inquired Mr. Penrose. ‘I never heard them called by that name before.’
‘It's my faither co's 'em “parish candles,” not me,’ said the child.
‘And what do you call them?’