"I know what I should like better than anything," said she—"a pair of boots for father. Mother thinks he would not have been so bad as he is if he had not got his feet wet through the last time he was out."
The old clerk bent down and kissed the little wistful face which was raised so earnestly to his.
"You shall have the boots," said he, "and something else besides for thinking, of your poor father. You pray for him, too, I hope?"
"Yes, sir; we both pray for him," answered Polly, with grave simplicity.
"Shall I tell you what we say?" whispered Bessie, folding her little hands together: "'Please, dear Lord Jesus Christ, to bless father and mother; and make father better and keep the wolf from the door.' Is that a good prayer?"
"Yes," answered Marshall, "a very good prayer, my child." But he could not help thinking that it was also a very curious one.
Just then Matthew Reardon woke up and began to cough. And the old clerk hastened to wish him good night lest he should be tempted to talk any more.
"You'll come again, Mr. Marshall?" said the sick man eagerly.
"If the Lord will," was the reply.
He nodded kindly to the children as he went out, and they never saw him any more on earth.