"
"Oh! then Jography is a person," said Cecile. "How glad I am! I was
just longing that he might be. And I'm so glad you're French; and is
Jography your real, real name?"
"Ain't you fit to kill a body with laughing?" said the tall lad,
rolling over and over in an ecstasy of mirth on the short grass. "No,
I ain't christened Jography. My heyes! what a rum go that ud be! No,
no, little uns, yer humble servant have had heaps of names. In Lunnon
I wor mostly called Joe Barnes, and once, once, long ago, I wor
little Alphonse Malet. My mother called me that, but Jography 'ull
fit fine jest now. You two call me Jography, young uns."
"And please, Jography," asked Cecile, "are you going to stay in
France now you have come?"
"Well, I rather guess I am. I didn't take all the trouble to run
away to go back again, I can tell you. And now might I ax you what
you two mites is arter?"
In reply to that question Cecile told as much of her story as she
dared. She and Maurice were going down south. They wanted to find a
girl who they thought was in the south. It was a solemn promise--a
promise made to one who was dead. Cecile must keep her promise, and
never grow weary till she had found this girl.
"But I was puzzled," said Cecile in conclusion. I was puzzled just
now; for though me and Maurice are a little French boy and girl, we
don't know one word of French. I did not know how we could find
Lovedy; and I was wishing--oh! I _was_ wishing--that Jesus the
Guide was living down on earth, and that He would take our hands and
guide us.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166