‘Bless thee, my darlin'—no more do I.’
‘I durnd think as God ud send me where yo' an' mi dad wouldn't let me go—would He, gronny?’
‘Nowe, lad, He wouldn't, forsure.’
And then, lighting the lamp, and turning with the old superstition to her Bible to see what the law and the testimony had to say as she opened it at random, her eyes fell on the words: ‘If ye, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him.’
That afternoon, when Matt and Miriam returned from Rehoboth, they found old Deborah less than the little child she watched over; for she, too, had not only become as a little child, but, as she said, least among the little ones.