He got his mother's Bible and he wrote some dreadful things in it, and made a fearful picture." "Picture of what ?" asked the old woman.
"A picture of flames and fire, and the devil toasting a man on it, and a song about the devil.

Here it is; I remember every word," and she repeated it word for word, it having sunk deeply into her mind.

"Then at the bottom he had written, 'Hallelujah, Amen! Gethin Owens Garthowen.'" A smile overspread Sara's countenance as she observed Morva's solemnity, a smile which somewhat lessened the girl's disquietude.
"Was it so very wicked, mother ?" "Wicked?
No," said the old woman.

"What wonder was it that the boy drew a picture of the things that he heard every Sunday in chapel--God's never-ending anger, and the devil's gathering in the precious souls which He has created.

That would be a failure, Morva, and God can't fail in anything.