Excerpt from The Story of Little-John
She knew that it was wrong ever to commence the day without first praying to God; God, that kind indulgent father, who takes care of us and gives us every thing that we require. She knew, too, that God loves little children that pray with all their hearts; that he watches over and protects them night and day; and that he blesses their parents on their account. She turned aside then into the grave yard, and kneeling beneath a tree, said her prayers aloud, pronouncing each word distinctly, as her grand mother had taught her. As she was rising from her knees, she heard quite near her a low cry: she turned, and perceived something white, partly concealed by the branches of aweeping-willow. Stepping to the spot, and putting aside the high weeds, she was sur prised to see a little child lying in a basket. The poor little fellow had just awoke, and was crying for his mother. Louisa felt his little hands - they were very cold; and his frock was damp with dew. When, how ever, he saw Louisa's pretty little face near him, he ceased crying, and stretched out his little hands to her.
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