place, all by his lone self. O--oo--oo--oh!' and he wound up with a
murderous yell, which had never failed before to bring the whole
family to his side.

His former prayer seeming to be in vain, he found a soft place,
brushed it as clean as possible, and with difficulty bending his
little stiff, scratched body into a kneeling position, he prayed his
nightly postscript to 'Now I lay me': 'God bless papa, 'n' mamma,
'n' Bell, 'n' Jack, 'n' Madge, 'n' Polly, 'n' Phil, 'n' Geoff, 'n'
Elsie.' Then, realizing that he was in a perilous position, and it
behoved him to be as pious as possible, he added: 'And please bless
Pancho, 'n' Hop Yet, 'n' Lubin, 'n' the goat--not the wild goat up on
the hill, but my goat, what got sick to his stummick when I painted
him with black letters.'

What a dreadful calamity, to be sure, if the wrong goat had been
blessed by mistake! His whole duty performed, he picked the
toadstools for his papa's Sunday dinner, and, leaning his head
against the lone stump, cried himself to sleep.

But relief was near, though he little suspected it as he lay in the
sound, dreamless sleep which comes only to the truly good. There was
a crashing sound in the still darkness, and Bell plunged through the
thick underbrush with a cry of delight.

'He is here! Dear, dear Geoff, he is all here! I knew it, I knew
it! Hurrah!--no, I mean--thank God!' she said softly as she stooped
down to kiss her mischievous little brother.

'But what a looking creature!' exclaimed Geoff, as he stooped over