head to foot, little wry neck, hunched back and all.

David, not realizing this was a revelation to the little man, wondered, as they walked away, that all his enthusiasm and exuberance of spirits had left him, and that he walked at his side wearily and sadly silent. His pathetic little legs spindled down from the smart new trousers, and his hands dangled weakly from his thin wrists, albeit his fingers clung tightly to his toy balloon.

“We’re going back to the bishop’s now, and we’ll have a good dinner, and then you’ll have a whole hour to play with Dorothy before we leave for home,” said David, cheeringly. The child made no response other than to slip his hand into David’s. “What are you thinking about, brother Hoyle?”