"Kneel down with me here, Snow-white, little darling child. Hold hands with me—so! Now say after me the words I say."
And wondering, the child repeated after him:
"'Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea: even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. Amen.'"
"Amen," said the child. "That's kind of a funny prayer, isn't it, Mark? I like that prayer. I think I'll have that for mine, 'stead of 'Now I lay me.' Mark!"
"Yes, Snow-white."
"Is you terrible glad I wasn't killed wiz that pistol key?"
"Yes, Snow-white; terrible glad!"
"Is you glad enough not to be cross wiz me 'cause I took it? 'cause I was naughty, 'cause you told me not."
"Yes, Snow-white."
"Not one single bit cross?"