"Is it stylish ter go ter Bible school?" asked Brigham. He seemed greatly puzzled.
"No, sir-ee, it ain't stylish, an' you ain't goin' thar," she said, giving him a cuff on the ear by way of emphasis.
"She? What's she know 'bout my 'ligion or y'r 'ligion? She ain't had no relevations. But git off to bed, the hull lot o' yer."
"It's only eight o'clock," said one, sullenly, dragging his feet.
"Well, I don't care. The house is all red up, an' I wants it to stay red up till schoolma'am comes. Besides, y're all clean yerselfs now, an' yer won't have to wash an' comb to-morrer."
At last they were driven off to bed, and gradually they quieted down, and all were asleep in the little adobe house.
But Brigham tossed in terrifying dreams. The scene shifted. He was with Wathemah, who was telling him of Jesus. Then the teacher's life was in danger and he tried to save her. He felt her hand upon his head; a smile flitted across his face, his muscles relaxed; he was in heaven; the streets were like sunset skies. The teacher took him by the hand and led him to the loveliest Being he had ever beheld, who gathered him in His arms, and said, "Suffer little children to come unto Me."