ServiceNo。I。
TheboyWaldokissedthepagesofhisbookandlookedup。Farovertheflatlaythekopje，amerespeck；thesheepwanderedquietlyfrombushtobush；thestillnessoftheearlySundayrestedeverywhere，andtheairwasfresh。
Helookeddownathisbook。Onitspageablackinsectcrept。Helifteditoffwithhisfinger。Thenheleanedonhiselbow，watchingitsquiveringantennaeandstrangemovements，smiling。
\"Evenyou，\"hewhispered，\"shallnotdie。EvenyouHeloves。EvenyouHewillfoldinHisarmswhenHetakeseverythingandmakesitperfectandhappy。\"
WhenthethinghadgonehesmoothedtheleavesofhisBiblesomewhatcaressingly。Theleavesofthatbookhaddroppedbloodforhimonce；theyhadtakenthebrightnessoutofhischildhood；frombetweenthemhadsprungthevisionsthathadclungabouthimandmadenighthorrible。Adder—likethoughtshadliftedtheirheads，hadshotoutforkedtonguesathim，askingmockinglystrange，trivialquestionsthathecouldnotanswer，miserablechild：