And was the memory of the past blotted out from her mind? Not so--indelibly painted there, was the image of a whitewashed cottage, overgrown with vines, near which a noble river rolled, seen through an opening of the trees; and of a kind father, who wore no plumes in his hair, who bore no bow and arrows, whom she had run to greet, and on whose knee she daily sat, listening to beautiful tales. And of a sweet, pretty mother, in whose face she loved to look, who taught her to say a prayer, kneeling with clasped hands; especially did she think of her as she appeared on that last evening, when she kissed her good-night, and sang her to sleep with a gentle lullaby. And never did she forget to kneel down, before she lay upon her bed of sweet grass, and with folded hands and reverent look to recite her evening prayer. What though the full meaning of the words did not enter into her mind--with childlike piety she looked upward to her Maker, and impressions of purity and goodness were made upon her heart. In the beautiful language of Keble, "Oh, say not, dream not, heavenly notes To childish ears are vain, That the young mind at random floats, And cannot reach the strain. Dim or unheard, the words may fell, And yet the heaven-taught mind May learn the sacred air, and all The harmony unwind. And if some tones be false or low, What are all prayers beneath, But cries of babes, that cannot know Half the deep thoughts they breathe. In his own words we Christ adore, But angels, as we speak, Higher above our meaning soar Than we o'er children weak: And yet His words mean more than they, And yet he owns their praise: Why should we think, He turns away From infants' simple lays?" Towandahoc and Ponawtan wondered when they saw her kneeling in prayer, but did not interfere with the lovely child; and doubtless this daily habit not only kept up within her mind purer notions of God and duty than she could otherwise have entertained, but enabled her to cherish a more vivid remembrance of the parents she believed to be dead, and of the beautiful home of her infancy. Never hearing aught spoken but the Indian tongue, the little girl would soon have entirely forgotten her native language, had it not been for this daily practice, which kept at least some words of English fresh in her memory.