'that we are all equal in the sight of heaven, for that
faithful black slave is now also sainted.3

But at this le tout petit Loup clapped his hands:
'And Saint Sara had a lamb/ he broke in with anima-
tion, 'and its coat was quite black to match her skin!'

'No,' said Christophe, cyou are thinking of the little
black lamb that Eusebe told us belonged to Satan!'

There ensued a somewhat heated discussion, for
Loup maintained that their mother had just said that
heaven took no account of colour; and so cross did he
become that he pinched Ghristophe hard.

'Ow! Do not do that, it hurts!' squealed Ghristophe.

Marie searched her brain quickly in an effort to
provide le tout petit Loup with a counter-attraction,
and she told them about quite another lamb, from
whose fleece had been woven a cloak for Saint Francis.
But she also told of the contrite wolf, that having
merited death as a slayer, had nevertheless been
spared by the saint who had preached it a very
wonderful sermon, explaining God's merciful fatherly
love and kindness towards all His lesser creatures.

'So,' said Marie, 'the wolf became as faithful as
a dog, and he followed Saint Francis about like
Mireio.'

She paused, and stared at her elder son in bewilder-
ment, for Christophe was weeping.

'Ai, ai,' he wept, 'why is Saint Francis not here . . .
I want him to come back and heal Mireio . . ; I
want him to tell her all about God! Why have none
of you told her about God's love?'

'Belli Santo d'or!' exclaimed Marie, much dis-
tressed, 'Such things cannot happen every day, my
little Christophe I9

He gazed at her out of tearful eyes, while into his
childish and groping mind there gradually crept a
miserable conviction: 'She will never feel about poor
Mireio as Saint Francis felt about that wolf. . . but

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