192, Liistory of Gutta-Percha Willie.

 

And Agnes threw her arms round his neck and
hugged and kissed him.

As soon as he could speak, that is, as soon as
she ceased choking him, he said—

“You were up in this tree last night: and the
wind was fluttering the leaves; and the moon was
shining through them”

“ And you carried me in this shawl, and that was
the red wings of the angel,” cried Agnes, dancing
with delight.

“Yes, pet, I daresay it was. But arn’t you sorry
to lose your big angel?”

“The angel was only in a dream, and you’re
here, Willie. Besides, you’ll be a big angel some
day, Willie, and then you'll have wings, and be
able to fly me about.”

“But you'll have wings of your own then, and
be able to fly without me.’

“But I may fold them up sometimes—mayn’t I? ?
for it would be much nicer to be carried by your
wings—sometimes, you know. Look, look, Willie!
Look at the sunbeam on the trunk of the fir—
how red it’s got. I do wish I could have a
peep at the sun. Where can he be? I should
see him if I were to go into his beam there —
shouldn't I?”

“He’s shining past the end of the cottage,” said
Willie. “Go, and you’ll see him.”

“Go where?” asked Agnes.