'Mr. Jack,' he said, 'what are you doing up there? Are you very busy?'
'No, old man,' I said, 'I'm not busy.'
'Then do come out, that's a dear, big Mr. Jack; I do want you so much.'
Who could resist the pleading little face, and the pretty, fascinating voice of that child? He would have a hard heart who could do so. I ran downstairs, and a minute afterwards I was racing with Jack on the wet sands, for the tide was fast going out, and was helping him to fly a small kite which his father had bought for him in Whitby. We had a fine time together on the shore, until at last a towel was hung out of the top window in the Christies' house, as a sign that it was Jack's bedtime. Though he was wild with joy and excitement, the obedient little fellow at once stopped his play, and told me mother wanted him, and he must go.
'I'm coming for you to-morrow morning, Mr. Jack,' he said.
'To-morrow morning, Jack?'
'Yes, for church,' said the child, putting up his dear little chubby face to be kissed. 'Don't go without me, will you, Mr. Jack?'
'Well, I'm not sure I'm going to-morrow, little man,' I said reluctantly, 'so you had better not call for me.'
'Not going to church!' said Jack, in a very shocked voice. 'Why not, Mr. Jack?'
'I'm going to Scarborough for the day with my friend Tom,' I said. 'I shall go to church in Scarborough, Jack.'