d in simple words her evening
prayer, asking God to let father come home, and to bless the kind people
who had given her a shelter, for Christ's sake.

Elsie and Wilhelm looked at each other with amazement. Alas! there was
no fear of God in that house. Elsie might cross herself when she spoke
of spirits, but that was only as a superstitious sign that she had been
told frightened them away.

Of Christ and His power to protect and save they knew nothing. Roman
Catholics by profession, they yet never darkened a church door, save
perhaps when they took a child to be baptized; but they only thought of
that ordinance as a protection to their child from the evil one. God's
holy Word was to them a sealed book. True, all the wood-cutters were not
like them, but still a spirit of ignorance and indifference as regarded
religion reigned amongst them; and if now and then a priest sought their
dwelling, his words (such as they were) fell on dull ears. Things seen
and temporal engrossed all their thoughts. The daily work, the daily
bread, and the nightly sleep--these filled their hearts and excluded
God. So it was not to be wondered at that little Frida's reading and
prayer were an astonishment to them.

"What think you of that, Elsie?" said Wilhelm. "The child spoke as if
she were addressing some one in the room."

"Ay, ay," answered his wife. "It was gruesome to hear her. She made me
look up to see if there was really any one there; and she wasn't
speaking to our Lady either. Art sure she is a child of earth at all,
Wilhelm?"

"Ay, she's that; and the question is, wife, What shall we do with her?
Suppose the father never turns up, shall we keep her, or give her over
to them that have the charge of wanderers and such like?"

Here Hans sprang forward. "Nay, father, nay! Do not send her away. She
is so pretty, and looks like the picture of an angel. I saw one in the
church where little Annchen was baptized. Oh, keep her, father!--Mutter,
do not send the little maid back into the forest!"

But Elsie's woman's heart had no thought of so doing. "No, no, my lad,"
she said. "Never fear; we'll keep the child till some one comes to take
her away that has a right to her. Who knows but mayhap she'll bring a
blessing on our house; for often I think we don't remember the Virgin
and the saints as we ought. My mother did, I know;" and as she spoke
great tears rolled down her cheeks.

The child's prayer had touched a chord of memory, and re