"But nobody'll be sitting by me at all."

"I am here just where you can see me; besides, God will be right next to
you."

"Will He? Ven all yight."

Ruth took off her hat and prepared to enjoy herself. As her head touched
the green earth, she saw the little maiden seat herself on the log, and
turning her face sideways, say in her pleasant, piping voice, --

"How-de-do, Dod?" And having made her acknowledgments, all her fears
vanished.

Ruth laughed softly to herself, and straightway began to read. The
afternoon burned itself away. Ethel played and sang and danced about her,
quite oblivious of the heat, till, tired out, she threw herself into Ruth's
arms.

"Sing by-low now," she demanded sleepily; "pay it's night, and you and me's
in a yockin'-chair goin' to by-low land."

Ruth realized that the child was weary, and drawing her little head to her
bosom, threw off the huge sunbonnet and ruffled up the damp, golden locks.

"What shall I sing, darling?" she mused: she was unused to singing babies
to sleep. Suddenly a little kindergarten melody she had heard came to her,
and she sang softly in her rich, tender contralto the swinging cradle-song:
--