"Let us hope so," said Mr. Devering reverently; "I, too, believe in Providence, which is another name for God."
"Margie goes much to church and sings many hymns," said the boy.
"I heard you singing just now," observed Mr. Devering.
My master looked frightened. "Did you mind?"
"Not a bit—why should I?"
"My father never allows me to sing at home."
Again a dark look came over the man's face. He might like my young master's father, but he evidently did not approve of all he did.
"You may sing just as much as you wish here," he said; "singing is the cry of the soul, and I hope you will teach my youngsters to warble half as well as you do—see, they are running up a flag for you," and he pointed to a flagpole on the lawn in front of the house.
"Old Glory!" cried the boy, and taking off his cap he waved it in the air; "but what is that flag they are putting above it?"