But it seems one mustn't judge by th' outside.

This is a puzzlin' world." "Well," said Mr.Riley, in an admonitory, patronizing tone as he patted Maggie on the head, "I advise you to put by the 'History of the Devil,' and read some prettier book.

Have you no prettier books ?" "Oh, yes," said Maggie, reviving a little in the desire to vindicate the variety of her reading.

"I know the reading in this book isn't pretty; but I like the pictures, and I make stories to the pictures out of my own head, you know.

But I've got 'AEsop's Fables,' and a book about Kangaroos and things, and the 'Pilgrim's Progress.'" "Ah, a beautiful book," said Mr.Riley; "you can't read a better." "Well, but there's a great deal about the Devil in that," said Maggie, triumphantly, "and I'll show you the picture of him in his true shape, as he fought with Christian." Maggie ran in an instant to the corner of the room, jumped on a chair, and reached down from the small bookcase a shabby old copy of Bunyan, which opened at once, without the least trouble of search, at the picture she wanted.
"Here he is," she said, running back to Mr.Riley, "and Tom colored him for me with his paints when he was at home last holidays,--the body all black, you know, and the eyes red, like fire, because he's all fire inside, and it shines out at his eyes." "Go, go!" said Mr.Tulliver, peremptorily, beginning to feel rather uncomfortable at these free remarks on the personal appearance of a being powerful enough to create lawyers; "shut up the book, and let's hear no more o' such talk.