“A little thing that ticks.”

“There is another kind, my dear.  We have in cities watchmen, to guard us and see that all goes right while we sleep.”

“O, I know,” replied Prudy, quickly; “the verse asks God to give us a conscience to walk back and forth before our lips while we talk!”

Miss Carlisle went on to say more about the watch, while Dotty fixed her bright eyes on her face, thinking, “What booful flowers those is in her bonnet!  Where did she pick ’em?”

The next verse was Sadie Bicknell’s:—­

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”

Dotty listened to this, and Miss Carlisle’s remarks upon it, with the most solemn earnestness, hoping to learn why it was that people should sit with a lamp shining on their feet.  She thought she could now see why Prudy loved to go to “Sabber school;” it was because she heard so many funny things.

Soon all the little girls had repeated their texts; but, to her great surprise, Dotty had not been called upon to say or do a single thing.  It was a marked slight.  She hardly knew whether to be angry or not.  “I guess the lady didn’t see me,” thought Dotty.  So she cleared her throat with a loud noise, which echoed across the room.  Then Miss Carlisle looked at her and smiled.  She was off the seat, standing on her tiptoes, Prudy tried to draw her back; but so much the more Dotty persisted.  She shook off her sister’s hand.

“I wasn’t a ‘peakin’ to you,” said she.

“Never mind her, Prudy,” said Miss Carlisle, for the poor girl was crimson with shame; “let your little sister come to me; perhaps she wishes to tell me something.”

Miss Carlisle bent forward, and let Dotty place her rosy lips close to her face.

“Now, what do you wish, little one?”

“You didn’t hear me say my werse,” whispered Dotty, in a tone of pique.

“Your verse?  Did you learn one, child?”

“Yes, ’m, I did.  I learned it all day yes’day.”

“O, very well! then say it, by all means, dear.”

Prudy’s face expressed perfect despair.  She tried to hush Dotty; but one might as well coax the wind to stop blowing.  The child’s thoughts had been like caged birds, and now out they must fly.

“Shall I whisper?” asked Dotty.

“No, say your verse aloud.”

The child planted herself in front of the class, and recited, in a high key, and with the greatest delight,—­

     “What you thpose um had for supper? 
      B’ack-eyed beans, un bread un butter.”

It was not possible to help smiling.  Prudy in spite of her shame and distress, shook with laughter; but it was a laughter just ready to tremble into tears.

“I’ll never ask mother to let her come again, if I once do get her safe home,” thought outraged Prudy.

Dotty was not allowed to attend Sabbath school again that year; but it was a long time before she forgot some of the things she had heard Miss Carlisle say.  Many of the strange words rang in her ears for weeks after wards, though she said nothing about them.