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When he came to the prayer he ordered Peaches to shut her eyes, fold her
hands and repeat after him:
"'Now I lay me down to sleep'"----
Peaches' eyes opened.
"Oh, is it a poetry prayer, Mickey?" she asked.
"Yes. Kind of a one. Say it," answered Mickey.
Peaches obeyed, repeating the words lingeringly and in her sweetest tones.
Mickey thrilled to his task.
"'I pray the Lord my soul to keep'"----he proceeded.
"What's my soul, Mickey?" she asked.
"The very nicest thing inside of you," explained Mickey. "Go on!"
"Like my heart?" questioned Peaches.
"Yes. Only nicer," said Mickey. "Shut your eyes and go on!"
Peaches obeyed.
"'If I should die before I wake'"----continued Mickey.
Peaches' eyes flashed open; she drew back in horror.
"I won't!" she cried. "I won't _say_ that. That's what happened to granny,
an' I saw. She was the awfullest, an' then--the men came. I _won't!_"
Mickey opened his eyes, looking at Peaches, his lips in a set line, his
brow wrinkled in thought.
"Well I don't know what they went and put _that_ in for," he said
indignantly.


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