him to, but he knew it in his heart.

Once, when he went with Palko to his hut, he prayed that the Lord Jesus would forgive him everything and asked Him to come into his heart. Ondrejko thereupon believed without fail that it happened, because it is still true today, "If thou shalt believe, thou shalt see the glory of God." Therefore what he believed, he also had. Ondrejko de Gemer already had suffered much on this earth. He suffered many heart-aches for the want of a father or mother. Many nights he cried about it when no one heard him. Very few realize how much pain a little child may suffer from sorrow and hopelessness from lack of love. Before Ondrejko came to Filina he often used to wonder what would become of him, since he had nobody, although both of his parents were living. Would he always have to live with strange people? A book could be written of the thoughts of that forsaken little soul while he was building castles and bridges, and when people thought he was deeply interested in his play. Fortunately Palko Lesina arrived, and through his daily talk made it plain to his little comrade that Someone good and beautiful lives, and that this beautiful and good One also loved him, little forsaken Ondrejko de Gemer, whom even his father did not love, and He wanted to live with him always, that Ondrejko need not feel forsaken anymore. Now he had Someone to bring his complaints to, and he could confide everything to Him, yea, everything. How beautiful that was! Yes, verily, the Lord Jesus now had one servant more.

Even the herdsmen sighed to Bacha, "How shall we ever get along without Palko Lesina? Ever since the boy has been with us, it seems that the sunrise looks more beautiful and the dew is richer on the ground."

"He is a blessed boy," admitted Filina with a sigh. Oh, how very much he needed this boy! Therefore when, instead of Lesina, a letter came, he was much relieved. Lesina wrote that he would not be able to come back till six weeks later, and asked Bacha to keep Palko with him in the meantime, that he would be useful in every way. He didn't want to let the boy come home alone because it was so far, and he was his only child. When that letter came, the boys jumped for joy, and Fido helped them, but the greatest joy after all was that of Filina himself.

In the evening of that day, while they were sitting before the hut and Palko was blowing on the horn, suddenly Dr. H. stood before them. With evident pleasure he noticed the strange boy. Fido wagged his bushy tail in a friendly manner because more than once he had received a good bacon-rind from this kind gentleman. Dunaj, stretched out by the feet of his master, lifted his head also, but made no sound. He knew already whom to let alone and whom not. Formerly he would have jumped up and barked, and tested the long coat of the doctor to see if it was made of good material or not. Today, he would rather snap at a fly which paid with her life for daring to buzz around his nose. Well, the dogs did not give it away and the people did not notice that they had a listener, neither then nor even after Palko began to read in his Book, where there was written about the great man who was the captain of the taxgatherers, who had great riches and many friends, but did not have peace or happiness in his heart because he did not know the Lord Jesus. Palko read how the Lord Jesus spoke to him while he sat in the sycamore tree and invited Himself as his guest.

"Uncle Filina," suddenly Palko interrupted, when he came to the words of the Lord, 'The Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost'—"If you simply do just like Zaccheus; and say to the Lord Jesus, 'This day is salvation come to this house,' that would be first, the house of your heart and then the whole hut. Uncle, I beg of you, receive Him today. Zaccheus received Him at once with joy, and how much greater joy did he find afterward when the Lord Jesus forgave him all his sins."

Surprised, the doctor looked at the strange boy and also at Bacha who arose and without a word entered the hut. Then Petrik noticed the guest; both the boys ran to welcome him and each one wanted to be the first to tell him who Palko was and what he was doing among them. The Doctor liked Palko, like everyone else who came in contact with him. Then the boys found out why the doctor had come that day. He wanted to find a cottage near the hut where he could place one of his patients for a week, whom only quietness and air and sun could heal.

"Palko, do you hear?" whispered Petrik, but so loud that all could hear him. "That cottage of yours is empty, your father will not come for six weeks, and you could live here with us; that would be a good place for the lady."

"What did you say, boy?" asked the doctor.

Ondrejko began to explain that Lesina had a cottage at the very foot of the "Old Hag's Rock," where the path led to town, and that at the present it was empty.

"Do you think, Palko," asked the doctor, "that your father would agree to lend us the cabin, if it would suit us?"

"Why would he not agree?" said the boy with shining eyes. "Does not the Lord Jesus say, 'I was sick, and ye visited Me?' If the cabin suits you I will give you the key. Just let the sick one come."

It was too late in the evening to go to see the place; so the boys prepared to go with the doctor early in the morning to the cottage.

This time the doctor did not sleep with the boys in the hayloft, because he spoke a long time with Filina. When Filina went to look at the boys, as it was his custom to do every evening, he stood above them a long time in deep thought, then he carefully covered Ondrejko, and sadly stroked his forehead, gently, as if he was very sorry for the boy. But why? Did he not look very lovely, somewhat browned from the sun, with beautiful roses on his velvet-like cheeks, and his small mouth as red as a poppy-flower. It was plainly noticeable how the mountain air and plain food were strengthening and healing him. His face also betrayed his inner happiness which the Lord Jesus had put in his heart. Why then was Bacha sorry for him?

During the night, a thunderstorm of short duration passed over the mountain. The spring morning broke very beautifully, as it can only after a storm. On the grass hung large pearls, and the leaves of the trees were full of diamonds as the sun shone on them. Everything sang praises to the Creator—every bird, every insect, and fly. The vapor rose like the smoke from a great sacrifice. No wonder then that Palko, leading their expedition, began to sing. Petrik gave a sigh, glanced at the doctor, thinking, "What will he say to that?" Ondrejko joyfully joined him, with his clear voice ringing like a golden bell. And thus it sounded over the mountains:

  "Let us give thanks to God our heavenly King;
  To Him who loved and kept us, let us sing.
  To Him be given honor, glory, praise;
  To God, Eternal, let our voices raise.
  We pray, 'Be constantly with us this day
  And guard us from all evil by the way,
  That we may to Thy glory ever live,
  And blessings to our neighbors ever give;
  And when at last we reach the glory shore
  We know that we shall praise Thee evermore.'"

The doctor knew that song. He had learned it in his childhood. It made him add his own voice to those clear notes of the children. It may seem strange, but it is true, that nothing will refresh the mind like such an early morning song, sung whole-heartedly on such a beautiful morning, when all nature is joining in praises to the Creator, and at every step man feels His holy, pure, and shining nearness.

"Listen, Palko," the doctor said after a moment's silence when the song was finished; "do you understand what we have sung?"