The room was in the second story of a small house, better kept than most of its neighbors, and contained a comfortable bed, with other needed furniture, scanty, but clean and good. It was to Mr. Hall like the chamber of a prince compared with what he had known for a long time; and as he looked around him and comprehended something of the blessed change that was coming over his life, tears filled his eyes. “Bring Andy around in the morning,” said the missionary as he turned to go. “Mrs. Paulding will take good care of him.” That night, after undressing the child and putting on him the clean night-gown which good Mrs. Paulding had not forgotten, he said, “And now Andy will say his prayers.” Andy looked at him with wide-open, questioning eyes. Mr. Hall saw that he was not understood. “You know, 'Now I lay me'?” he said. “No, don't know it,” replied Andy. “'Our Father,' then?” The child knit his brow. It was plain that he did not understand what his good friend meant. “You've said your prayers?” Andy shook his head in a bewildered way. “Never said your prayers!” exclaimed Mr. Hall, in a voice so full of surprise and pain that Andy grew half frightened. “Poor baby!” was said, pityingly, a moment after. Then the question, “Wouldn't you like to say your prayers?” brought the quick answer, “Yes.” “Kneel down, then, right here.” Andy knelt, looking up almost wonderingly into the face that bent over him. “We have a good Father in heaven,” said Mr. Hall, with tender reverence in his tone, pointing upward as he spoke, “He loves us and takes care of us. He brought you to me, and told me to love you and take care of you for him, and I'm going to do it. Now, I want you to say a little prayer to this good and kind Father before you go to bed. Will you?” “Yes, I will,” came the ready answer. “Say it over after me. 'Now I lay me down to sleep.'” Andy repeated the words, his little hands clasped together, and followed through the verse which thousands of little children in thousands of Christian homes were saying at the very same hour. There was a subdued expression on the child's face as he rose from his knees; and when Mr. Hall lifted him from the floor to lay him in bed, he drew his arms about his neck and hugged him tightly. How beautiful the child looked as he lay with shut eyes, the long brown lashes fringing his flushed cheeks, that seemed already to have gained a healthy roundness! The soft breath came through his parted lips, about which still lingered the smile of peace that rested there after his first prayer was said; his little hands lay upon his breast. As Mr. Hall sat gazing at this picture there came a rap on his door. Then the missionary entered. Neither of the men spoke for some moments. Mr. Paulding comprehended the scene, and felt its sweet and holy influence.