"Palko, do you hear?" whispered Petrik, but so loud that all could hear him. "That cottage of yours is empty, your father will not come for six weeks, and you could live here with us; that would be a good place for the lady."
"What did you say, boy?" asked the doctor.
Ondrejko began to explain that Lesina had a cottage at the very foot of the "Old Hag's Rock," where the path led to town, and that at the present it was empty.
"Do you think, Palko," asked the doctor, "that your father would agree to lend us the cabin, if it would suit us?"
"Why would he not agree?" said the boy with shining eyes. "Does not the Lord Jesus say, 'I was sick, and ye visited Me?' If the cabin suits you I will give you the key. Just let the sick one come."
It was too late in the evening to go to see the place; so the boys prepared to go with the doctor early in the morning to the cottage.
This time the doctor did not sleep with the boys in the hayloft, because he spoke a long time with Filina. When Filina went to look at the boys, as it was his custom to do every evening, he stood above them a long time in deep thought, then he carefully covered Ondrejko, and sadly stroked his forehead, gently, as if he was very sorry for the boy. But why? Did he not look very lovely, somewhat browned from the sun, with beautiful roses on his velvet-like cheeks, and his small mouth as red as a poppy-flower. It was plainly noticeable how the mountain air and plain food were strengthening and healing him. His face also betrayed his inner happiness which the Lord Jesus had put in his heart. Why then was Bacha sorry for him?
During the night, a thunderstorm of short duration passed over the mountain. The spring morning broke very beautifully, as it can only after a storm. On the grass hung large pearls, and the leaves of the trees were full of diamonds as the sun shone on them. Everything sang praises to the Creator—every bird, every insect, and fly. The vapor rose like the smoke from a great sacrifice. No wonder then that Palko, leading their expedition, began to sing. Petrik gave a sigh, glanced at the doctor, thinking, "What will he say to that?" Ondrejko joyfully joined him, with his clear voice ringing like a golden bell. And thus it sounded over the mountains:
"Let us give thanks to God our heavenly King;
To Him who loved and kept us, let us sing.
To Him be given honor, glory, praise;
To God, Eternal, let our voices raise.
We pray, 'Be constantly with us this day
And guard us from all evil by the way,
That we may to Thy glory ever live,
And blessings to our neighbors ever give;
And when at last we reach the glory shore
We know that we shall praise Thee evermore.'"
The doctor knew that song. He had learned it in his childhood. It made him add his own voice to those clear notes of the children. It may seem strange, but it is true, that nothing will refresh the mind like such an early morning song, sung whole-heartedly on such a beautiful morning, when all nature is joining in praises to the Creator, and at every step man feels His holy, pure, and shining nearness.