though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me:" is it
not so?'

There was something so calm, so trustful in the child's faith in God's
mercy, that the poor stricken men listened as he tried to cheer them
with thoughts of that Power who is mighty to save.

The weary hours dragged their slow length along, and, though help came
not yet, his perfect trust in God never wavered. Some of the men gave
themselves up to despair, and lay down where they had sat cowering,
prepared to die. The lamps went out by degrees as the oil was expended,
adding to the horror of the situation by leaving them in utter darkness.
And yet, though death appeared so near, it had no terrors for little
Davie, for God was nearer still.

'Shall I sing to you, Master Morgan?' the boy asked, as he laid his
weary head down upon his friend's broad shoulder.

'Ay, ay, my lad,' was the sole reply the poor man could make.

Then through the awful silence and darkness of this fearful grave rang
the sweet, clear tones of the child's voice, singing--

'Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.'

'Hark!' he cried, suddenly pausing in the hymn; 'they are striving to
clear the working--I hear the sound of their picks! We are saved! we are
saved!' he joyously shouted.

With the sense of hearing preternaturally sharpened, these poor men, who
had given themselves up for lost, also listened; those who had lain down
to die rising up and listening with every nerve acutely strained to
catch the faintest sound. Yes, they could hear their deliverers bravely
working to set them free.

Then arose as with one voice their glad song of deliverance,--

'Thou canst save, and Thou alone!'

* * * * *

Tenderly they bore him home to his mother, that brave, noble child,
whose simple trust had sustained their failing hearts in that hour of
trial and suffering.

But reaction had set in, and he was weak and fainting when they laid him
in her arms, yet he feebly murmured, striving for her sake to appear
still strong,--

'Oh, mother darling, I am so glad to be at home again! I thought I
should never more see you, nor my Evening Primrose. But, mother, why is
it still so dark?'

She glanced in terror at his soft blue eyes, which to her looked as
clear as ever. But why was it that, though the morning light was
streaming in through the open window, to him it s