He had grown to love the thought of him, and to listen attentively to the book which told the manner of life he led; but it was a chill to find out that he could not look into his face, and hear his voice, as he could Oliver's.

His heart was heavy, and very sad.
"I s'pose I can't see him, then," he murmured to himself, at last.
"Not exactly like other folks," said Oliver.

"I think sometimes that perhaps there's a little darkness of the grave where he was buried about him still.

But he sees us, and hears us.

He himself says, 'Behold, I am with you always.' I don't know whatever I should do, even with my little love here, if I wasn't sure Jesus was with me as well." "I'll tell you what I'll do," said Tony, after another pause.