Jeff liked Jack better every day, and asked him a great deal about his people. One day he questioned him about his mother, and being a subject dear to the boy's heart, he launched forth into a glowing description of her, which quickly showed the rough miner what a good influence she had exercised over her little son.
'Well,' said he slowly, 'I understand you now, my lad. Your mother was one worth having. But you say she taught you prayers an' hymns. I don't care about prayers, but I'm powerful fond o' singin'. Could you give us one o' your mother's hymns now?'
They were gathered round the fire after supper, but Lem seemed half asleep as Jack and Jeff talked. In answer to the latter's questions, the boy said:
'Aye, of course I can. I'll sing you the one as father liked best, for he used to sing it when he was freightin' an' campin' out as we're doin' now.'
'Give it us, my lad,' said Jeff, as he refilled his pipe, and prepared to listen.
Jack had a sweet young voice, and, possessing a good ear for music, he had quickly picked up the tunes of his favourite hymns from his parents, who both sang well.
Delighted to please his new friend, he struck up 'For ever with the Lord,' repeating the last half of the first verse as a chorus after all the verses. Fresh and clear his voice rang out, and when he came to the last two lines—
'Yet nightly pitch my moving tent
A day's march nearer home'—
he seemed to throw his whole energy into the words.