And I daresay it does
'denote laziness,' as Aunt Elizabeth says. But at the same time I think
it really doesn't matter to God whether one is lying down or sitting up,
or on one's knees when we pray to Him."

"Oh, Uncle Tom! Are you quite sure?"

"Dead sure, little woman--as sure as ducks are ducks--especially when
little girls are tired."

"Then I'll say my prayers lying down."

She clasped her two little sunbrowned hands together and said the Lord's
Prayer, and then paused.

"Shall I say the extrack?"

"The extrack?"

"Yes, the extrack from the Catechism. Aunt Elizabeth composed some of
it."

"Oh! she composed some of it, did she? Yes, by all means say 'the
extract.'"

The child closed her eyes again, and began very slowly:

"'Before I slumber, O Lord, I comment myself to Thy care and protection,
however unworthy and thoughtless my conduct has been during the day now
closed.'" ("That's Aunt Elizabeth," muttered Gerrard under his breath.)
"'I will try hard to hasten my rebellious spirit,--no not hasten, but
chasten--I always say that wrong, Uncle Tom--to reverently submit
myself to all my governors, teachers, spiritual pastors and masters:
to regulate my conduc', and demean myself with all humility; to keep my
hands from picking and stealing, to recollect that I may be called
this night before, Thee to answer for my many sins and transgressions.'
That's all Uncle Tom."

Gerrard listened with the utmost gravity.

"That's all right, Mary; but I think it is a bit too long a prayer for
very little girls. Now, by and by, I'll teach you a new prayer."

"A new prayer! Oh, that _will_ be nice! Sometimes Uncle Westonley let's
me pray for Bunny."

"Who is Bunny?"

"My native bear. I'll show him to you to-morrow. You see, when Uncle
Westonley comes to see me at night, after Aunt Elizabeth has heard
me say the Lord's Prayer, and the extrack, he lets me pray for Bunny
because he is full of ticks, and Jim says hell die. I say 'dear God,
don't let Bunny die, freshen and preserve him in Thy sight, and make him
whole.' I got that out of a book, and Uncle Westonley says it will do
very nicely."

"Couldn't be better, little woman. _I_ think it's a grand prayer."

"But, Uncle Tom, Bunny has been sicker an' sicker, and won't eat
anything but the very youngest, weeniest gum leaves, and Aunt Elizabeth
says he's a hideous little beast. And Jim and me love him to death."

"Don't worry about what Aunt Elizabeth says," a