"Are you Daniel? My mamma's just been reading
about you. You was in the lions' den--_wasn't_ you, Daniel?"
Mr. McQuilken smiled at bareheaded, flossy-haired little Katie, and
replied, with a wink at Abner,--
"Fath, little lady, and I suppose I'm that same Dannul; but 'twas so
long ago I've clane forgot aboot it entirely."
"O, did you? Well, you _was_ in the lions' den, Daniel, but they
didn't bite you, you know, 'cause you prayed so long and so loud,
with your winners up; and then God wouldn't let 'em bite."
Old Daniel laid both his huge hands on Katie's head.
"Swate little chirrub," said he, "don't she look saintish?"
Katie moved away; she did not like to have her hair pulled, and Daniel
was unconsciously drawing it through the big cracks in his fingers, as
if he was waxing silk.
"I guess I'll go home now," said she, with a timid glance at the man
whom the lions did not bite; "they'll be spectin' me."
Abner and Daniel both watched the tiny figure across the fields till
Ruth came out to meet it, and it fluttered into the east door of the
house.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89