Caspar hushed and comforted her as well as he could, speaking sometimes English and sometimes German in his perplexity. At last, he hit on an expedient. "I wish you could stop crying," said he, "because I want you to help me about supper." The thought of being useful brought comfort to Kitty's soul. She looked up from Caspar's bosom, where she had hidden her head, and wiped her eyes with what remained of her frock. "You are very good to like me when I cry so much," said she. "I can't bear children that cry, myself. There, now! I am good. What shall I do?" "You may pick the bird's feathers off if you like, while I make the fire." A very satisfactory fire, kindled by Caspar's tinder-box, was soon roaring up the long-unused chimney. Caspar brought in all the pine knots and what wood he could find without going too far away, arranged a bed of straw covered with pine boughs, and finding the shutter which had once closed the window, he barricaded that and the broken door as well as he could. Then he broiled on the coals the bird, which Kitty had picked very neatly. It was not much of a supper for two, but it was far better than nothing, and Kitty grew quite cheerful over it. Supper over, he proposed that she should go to bed. "I must say my prayers first," said Kitty. "Will you hear me?" "Truly I will, little dear." And Kitty knelt down and said her prayers, ending with, "God bless my father and that good man who saved his life!" "Who saved your father's life, Kitty?" asked Caspar as he arranged her straw bed. "I don't know his name, but he was a good man, and my father gave him his watch with my picture in it. I don't think he should have given away my picture, though, do you?" "Perhaps he had no time to take it out," said Caspar, greatly wondering. So this was Jonathan Elmer's child? "Oh, well, I dare say he did not mean any harm. Aunt Deborah says men are naturally inconsiderate." And with this wise remark, Kitty lay down, and went to sleep as suddenly as a bird tucks its head under its wing. Caspar had thought himself very sleepy, but the disposition to sleep had vanished with the opportunity of gratifying it, and he had never been more wide awake in his life. The thunder-storm had come up very quickly, and though the sun had hardly set, it was already very dark. The thunder rolled nearer and nearer, and the wind roared furiously among the trees, so that Caspar congratulated himself more than ever on the shelter of the old cabin. He heaped up the fire and kept his ears open, for he remembered the bear, and feared there might be other wild animals in the neighbourhood. He took out his Bible and tried to read, but the light was too uncertain, so he put up the book and fell to musing on his present condition.