66 J. COLE.

usual place one morning, when mended, and
said nothing about it until I found it out,
and then confessed, in his own queer way,
“Please, I knew you was sorry it was broke,

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and so I mended it;” then he would have
hurried away, flushed with pleasure at my
few words of thanks and praise.

On the mantelpiece were more of Joe’s treas-
ures, four or five cheap photographs, the
subjects quite characteristic of Joe. One of
them was a religious subject, “The Shepherd
with a little lamb on his shoulders.” A silent
prayer went up from my heart that some-
where that same Good Shepherd was finding
lost Joe, and bringing him safely back to us.

There were some pebbles he had picked up
during a memorable trip to Margate with Dick,
a year before I saw him; which pebbles he
firmly believed were real “aggits,” and had
promised to have them polished soon, and made
into brooch and earrings for Mrs. Wilson.

There was a very old-fashioned photograph
of myself that I had torn in half, and thrown
into the waste-paper basket. I saw this had
been carefully joined together and enclosed