Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings, without number,
Gently falling on thy head."
In a few moments Teddy was sound asleep, and Tiff, wrapping him in his white great-coat, laid him down at the root of a tree.
"Bress de Lord, dere an't no whiskey here!" he said, "nor no drunken critturs to wake him up. And now, Miss Fanny, por chile, your eyes is a falling. Here's dis yer old shawl I put up in de pocket of my coat. Wrap it round you, whilst I scrape up a heap of dem pine-leaves, yonder. Dem is reckoned mighty good for sleeping on, 'cause dey's so healthy, kinder. Dar, you see, I's got a desput big heap of 'em."
"I'm tired, but I'm not sleepy," said Fanny. "But, Tiff, what are you going to do?"
"Do!" said Tiff, laughing, with somewhat of his old, joyous laugh. "Ho! ho! ho! I's going to sit up for to meditate—a 'sidering on de fowls of de air, and de lilies in de field, and all dem dar Miss Nina used to read 'bout."
For many weeks, Fanny's bed-chamber had been the hot, dusty loft of the cabin, with the heated roof just above her head, and the noise of bacchanalian revels below. Now she lay sunk down among the soft and fragrant pine-foliage, and looked up, watching the checkered roof of vine-leaves above her head, listening to the still patter of falling dew-drops, and the tremulous whirr and flutter of leaves. Sometimes the soft night-winds swayed the tops of the pines with a long swell of dashing murmurs, like the breaking of a tide on a distant beach. The moonlight, as it came sliding down through the checkered, leafy roof, threw fragments and gleams of light, which moved capriciously here and there over the ground, revealing now a great silvery fern-leaf, and then a tuft of white flowers, gilding spots on the branches and trunks of the trees; while every moment the deeper shadows were lighted up by the gleaming of fire-flies. The child would raise her head a while, and look on the still scene around, and then sink on her fragrant pillow in dreamy delight. Everything was so still, so calm, so pure, no wonder she was prepared to believe that the angels of the Lord were to be found in the wilderness. They who have walked in closest communion with nature have ever found that they have not departed thence. The wilderness and solitary places are still glad for them, and their presence makes the desert to rejoice and blossom as the rose.
When Fanny and Teddy were both asleep, Old Tiff knelt down and addressed himself to his prayers; and, though he had neither prayer-book, nor cushion, nor formula, his words went right to the mark, in the best English he could command for any occasion; and, so near as we could collect from the sound of his words, Tiff's prayer ran as follows:—
"Oh, good Lord, now please do look down on dese yer chil'en. I started 'em out, as you telled me; and now whar we is to go, and whar we is to get any breakfast, I's sure I don' know. But, oh good Lord, you has got everyting in de world in yer hands, and it's mighty easy for you to be helping on us; and I has faith to believe dat you will. Oh, bressed Lord Jesus, dat was carried off into Egypt for fear of de King Herod, do, pray, look down on dese yer por chil'en, for I's sure dat ar woman is as bad as Herod, any day. Good Lord, you's seen how she's been treating on 'em; and now do pray open a way for us through de wilderness to de promised land. Everlasting—Amen."