“Shall I say the extrack?”
“The extrack?”
“Yes, the extrack from the Catechism. Aunt Elizabeth composed some of it.”
“Oh! she composed some of it, did she? Yes, by all means say 'the extract.'”
The child closed her eyes again, and began very slowly:
“'Before I slumber, O Lord, I comment myself to Thy care and protection, however unworthy and thoughtless my conduct has been during the day now closed.'” (“That's Aunt Elizabeth,” muttered Gerrard under his breath.) “'I will try hard to hasten my rebellious spirit,—no not hasten, but chasten—I always say that wrong, Uncle Tom—to reverently submit myself to all my governors, teachers, spiritual pastors and masters: to regulate my conduc', and demean myself with all humility; to keep my hands from picking and stealing, to recollect that I may be called this night before, Thee to answer for my many sins and transgressions.' That's all Uncle Tom.”
Gerrard listened with the utmost gravity.
“That's all right, Mary; but I think it is a bit too long a prayer for very little girls. Now, by and by, I'll teach you a new prayer.”
“A new prayer! Oh, that will be nice! Sometimes Uncle Westonley let's me pray for Bunny.”
“Who is Bunny?”