They looked up into the dark steeps, and the future seemed to lower on them.
'Maybe summat bad'll come to us in this spinney,' she whispered.
'Nothing bad can come to you when you are in God's keeping.'
There canna be many folk in His keeping, then.'
'Do you say your prayers, Hazel?' he asked rather sadly.
'Ah! I say:
"Keep me one year, keep me seven,
Till the gold turns silver on my head;
Bring me up to the hill o' heaven,
And leave me die quiet in my bed."
That's what I allus say.'
'Who taught you?'
'My mam.'