“We’ll send January to town to see if we can get a rabbit or a quail.”

An hour later January returned and reported:  “Dere ain’t no rabbit or no bird in de market, Miss Mary.”

Beth was very much disappointed, but was pacified, however, by the assurance that darkies would be sent out to hunt rabbits in the morning.  She even consented to take a little rice gruel, cheered by the prospects of having something better on the morrow.

In the morning, when the darkies were ready for hunting rabbits, Mrs. Davenport said to Duke: 

“Go with them, old fellow.  Perhaps you can chase a rabbit down for your little mistress.  She wants a rabbit very, very much.”

He seemed to understand, for he rose and went with the hunters.  Rabbit hunting was his favorite pastime.  Therefore he displayed the first signs of joy that he had shown since Beth’s sickness.  He bounded lightly across the fields, sniffing the ground expectantly.

At first the darkies were encouraged by his manner, and followed him on and on.  When, however, they had gone many miles, and most of the forenoon passed without Duke’s scaring up a single rabbit for them, they became discouraged.  In fact, they returned to the house and reported their ill-luck to Mrs. Davenport.

“I reckon dis ain’t time for rabbits.  We didn’t see a single one all dis time.”

“Where is Duke?” asked Mrs. Davenport.

The darkies grinned.  “Oh, dat fool dog, he ain’t no sense at all.  We tried to get him to come wid us, but he went on sniffin’ as if he was jes’ bound to have a rabbit, even when dar ain’t none.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Davenport, with feeling, “I only wish you had half the perseverance of Duke.  If he could understand like you, he would go until he dropped before he’d give up.”

She therefore had to go to Beth and report their failure.  The poor child cried and cried, she was so very much disappointed.

“I’ll—­I’ll starve, and I’m so terribly hungry,” she moaned.

“Dearie, if you’ll only take some gruel, I’ll get you the most beautiful doll you ever saw, or a ring, or anything you wish.”

At the moment, even this promise failed in appealing to Beth.  She desired rabbit more than anything else in the world.

“Won’t you please try some gruel, dear?  Won’t you, to please me?”

“I’ll—­I’ll try, but I don’t believe I can swallow a bit of the nasty stuff.  I want rabbit.”

Mrs. Davenport hurried away to get the gruel.

Left to herself, Beth continued to cry.

“I don’t believe God cares for me, or He’d have sent me a rabbit.  I asked Him last night when I prayed.  Miss Smith”—­her Sunday-school. teacher—­“says God always answers prayer if it is good for one, and I’m sure rabbit is good for me.”

The tears came a little faster.

“She says, though, one must ask awfully hard.  Perhaps I don’t ask hard enough.  I’ll ask again.”