"To whom?" asked Bessie.
"To Him what has the angels, and is glad if we're good,—Jesus."
"Oh, yes!" said Bessie; "we speak to Him very often: when we say our prayers, that is speaking to Jesus; and He always listens too."
"Then you speak to Him for me, will you? You knows Him better than I do: I don't know Him much, only what you and the lady telled me, and what the song says."
"What shall we tell Him?" asked Bessie.
"Tell Him I'm so tired this long while, and the pain aches so, and if He could just let me be a angel, I'd never do so no more; and I'm sorry I plagued you, and I'll do just what He bids me. I'm sorry I broke Miss Porter's plate too."
"Yes, we'll tell Him," said Bessie gently; "but, Dolly, Jesus would like you to tell Him yourself too."
"I done it, and I'll do it some more," said Dolly, feebly; "make some more singin'."
Maggie and Bessie sang again, and before long poor Dolly's eyes closed, and she lay quietly sleeping; while our little girls, having left some of their berries for Lem to give her when she woke, went home with their mother and other friends.