’Give me the pins,’ said Joyce, vehemently. ’I’ll larn.’ ’Go back, Mr. John,’ said Cicely; ’you know you are forbidden to rise to-day. Go back, or you will be worse to-morrow.’ ’Is the maister not getting better?’ asked Joyce, anxiously. ’He is; but his recovery is slow. His head has been injured, and we must take care that there be no relapse. We can pray to God for him, Joyce.’ The girl looked round full in her face inquiringly. ’Will that make ’n well?’ ’I trust so.’ ’Better than the doctor’s medicine?’ ’It helps the doctor to cure him.’ ’I know nothing about it,’ said Joyce. ’Did the maister pray for me when I were scat?’ Cicely could not take on herself to answer. ’I be sure he did,’ said Joyce, confidently. ’Why did I ax you about it? If that would hev made me well, he’d a done it. You don’t know the maister as I do.’ ’Do you know about God?’ asked Cicely. ’See there, now!’ exclaimed Joyce, with animation, ’that be ’zackly what the maister once axed of I; and I sed, Sure I do, I see ’n every day when it bain’t raining and there be no clouds. I reckon I thought he meant the sun. But I know better now, and I’ll tell’y how I comed to know. Thicky night as the maister were thrown down and hurted by Cap’n Sampson, I thought he were sure to die in my airms. And I felt then that I must say something and ax some one for help—some one as wouldn’t want to take ’n away from me. It weren’t the sun as I spoke to, for the sun had gone down. I don’t know ’zackly what and where he was I called to, but I knowed very well he were up where the sun be by daytime, but he as I mean were there o’ night time ekally well. Then, after that, when the young maister were able to open his eyes and speak, I were that lifted up with gladness that my heart were nigh to starting, and I could do nort but cry tears, and tell he as I mean—but I don’t know a mite who he be—how glad I were. I know very well he weren’t the sun, for, you sees, the sun were then a-sinking, and I never gave ’n a thought for a minute to look at ’n. I looked right up, up, up; and there were over me the great covering table stone, and I seemed to go right through thicky and see above the clouds as well, and the stars, and I’m blessed if I know where to. I be no skollard I can say nort but glory rallaluley and kinkum-kum.’ ’Kinkum-kum!’ repeated Cicely, with a puzzled look. ’Sure—what else? I reckon he begins with Our Vaither, and he goes on to kinkum-kum; but I know nort more nor that. I ha’ heard the Methody vellers a say it at their meetings on the moor.’ Cicely laughed; she could not help it—she was tickled. ’You have made a comical muddle of it,’ she said, and turned her head to conceal her amusement. ’I don’t know, and I don’t care,’ said Joyce, doggedly. ’He heard it, up there, when I said it, that I knows, sure-ly; and he didn’t laugh, that I knows also.’ ’Shall I teach you what it really is?’