She made rather sorry work at first, but there could be no doubt that the One to whom she was addressing the petition understood her wishes. When she had satisfied herself and included the landlord in her prayer, she ceased again, and this time looked up at her father whose hand was resting on her head.
“I must pray for all of them, musn’t I?”
“Certainly, my child.”
“But I don’t know dere names.”
“They will all tell them.”
No act of worship in church or grand cathedral was more solemn and reverential than that of the men, as each in turn stepped softly forward with bowed head, and repeated his name to the tiny petitioner, who immediately included it with those for whom she had already prayed and it was wafted upward through space to Him who delights to hear and answer such petitions.
She did not forget one. To make sure, she looked up while still on her knees and asked:
“Did I fordot any of you?”
“No,” replied the parent; “you have not missed any. That’s a good girl.”