But time was kind to him, and slowly he came to feel that father was not lost, only invisible for a while, and sure to be found again, well and strong and fond as ever, even though his little son should see the purple asters blossom on his grave many, many times before they met.
To this belief Demi held fast, and in it found both help and comfort, because it led him unconsciously through a tender longing for the father whom he had seen to a childlike trust in the Father whom he had not seen.

Both were in heaven, and he prayed to both, trying to be good for love of them.
The outward change corresponded to the inward, for in those few weeks Demi seemed to have grown tall, and began to drop his childish plays, not as if ashamed of them, as some boys do, but as if he had outgrown them, and wanted something manlier.

He took to the hated arithmetic, and held on so steadily that his uncle was charmed, though he could not understand the whim, until Demi said, "I am going to be a bookkeeper when I grow up, like papa, and I must know about figures and things, else I can't have nice, neat ledgers like his." At another time he came to his aunt with a very serious face, and said "What can a small boy do to earn money ?" "Why do you ask, my deary ?" "My father told me to take care of mother and the little girls, and I want to, but I don't know how to begin." "He did not mean now, Demi, but by and by, when you are large." "But I wish to begin now, if I can, because I think I ought to make some money to buy things for the family.

I am ten, and other boys no bigger than I earn pennies sometimes." "Well, then, suppose you rake up all the dead leaves and cover the strawberry bed.

I'll pay you a dollar for the job," said Aunt Jo.
"Isn't that a great deal?
I could do it in one day.